


These things have haunted me (For you've entirely enchanted me)

by pherber



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Combeferre & Enjolras Platonic Life Partners, Ghost Sex, Ghosts, M/M, Ouija, Poltercourf, Poltergeists, Sorry About the Ghost Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 28,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2571806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherber/pseuds/pherber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“But Combeferre, listen to me, because I am one hundred percent serious right now. I don’t want you, or anyone else, to ever attempt to contact ghosts in our home again.”</i>
</p><p>  <i>“What?” Combeferre felt a fear begin to rise inside him. “But I have so much I want to ask. Just imagine the knowledge that could come from this. This ghost can manipulate electricity, it can move objects, we can’t let this opportunity pass! Just because you’re afraid.”</i></p><p>  <i>Enjolras sighed and shook his head. “This is exactly what I was worried about. You’re right, Ferre, I am afraid. But not of some ghost with a weird name and a vendetta against my coffee mug. I’m afraid for you.”</i></p><p>                                                                                **************</p><p>Inspired by the general idea of Poltercourf by <a href="http://orestesblasting-pyladesfunk.tumblr.com/">orestesblasting-pyladesfunk</a> and <a href="http://orestesblasting-pyladesfunk.tumblr.com/post/90372654336/poltercourf-ouija-board">this post</a> in particular!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to [orestesblasting-pyladesfunk](http://orestesblasting-pyladesfunk.tumblr.com/) for letting me play with her headcanon! This kind of ran away with me in a different direction than I'd planned so it deviates a bit from that, though.
> 
> Let's see, what else?  
> Title is stolen from Bryan Ferry.  
> Oh, and I'm sorry for being mean to Pontmercy, I love him really ;)

”Fine!” Enjolras sighed. “I really don’t see the point of sitting in a circle on the floor surrounded by candles. But if you’re all determined to waste your time, that’s your call. Just please, try not to burn our apartment down. And if anyone wants to do something that’s actually productive you’re welcome to join us in the kitchen.“

“You’re no fun.” Joly shook his head and turned to the rest of the group. There was an undeniable spark of excitement in his eyes. He’d been trying to convince Combeferre to join him in a séance for weeks. And now, finally, they had managed to get enough people together for a lovely evening of wine and ghost summoning. Bahorel and Feuilly had showed up, as well as Marius and Cosette. To be honest, Combeferre was quite excited about the evening himself. His roommate however, was anything but amused.

“Right” Enjolras continued. “Who’s going to join me and Ferre in the kitchen? We still need to go over the plans for our next rally.”

“Actually, Enjolras, I thought I’d stay and see where this goes.” Combeferre explained.

“What? You can’t be serious. Do you honestly believe that putting your hands on a piece of wood is going to summon a ghost?”

“It’s a Ouija board actually and technically we’re not summoning anything.” Joly protested.

“Yes, thank you Joly. As I said, Enjolras, I’m curious to see where this is going. I can’t say that I believe in communication with the dead but until it has been scientifically proven or refuted, I can’t say that don’t believe in it either.“

Enjolras looked at Combeferre like he’d just proclaimed his allegiance to the Republican party.

“And besides” Joly continued. “I can guarantee you that it does work. I’ve done it with Jehan quite a few times and the answers we get are too uncanny to just be your own subconscious or something like that. Feuilly, you where there the other week, tell him.”

Feuilly threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of surrender. “No way. I’m not getting involved.”

“Yeah, cause you were scared shitless when you came home.” Bahorel helpfully chipped in. Feuilly gave him a murderous look.

“Really?” Marius asked, his voice even shakier than normal. “I thought it wasn’t going to be scary.”

“Of course not. As long as we say the words right and follow Jehan’s instructions, it’s going to be fine.” Joly promised.

“Exactly” Bahorel continued. “And if Joly, who has never done this on his own before, happens to say a word wrong, the worst thing that will happen is we summon a demon who’ll haunt us for the rest of our lives.” Marius visibly paled at his words while Feuilly bit his tongue not to laugh and Bahorel earned a slap on the head from Cosette.

“I’m not so sure about this anymore, guys.” Marius said.

“Well, you can always join Enjolras in the kitchen.” Joly suggested, raising his eyebrows.

The look on Marius’s face was absolutely priceless. Combeferre had never seen a human being look so conflicted and terrified in his life. He was saved from having to decide between the lesser of two evils though, as Cosette put a hand on his knee. “It’s just a game, sweetie.”

“I’ll leave you to you game then.” Enjolras muttered grumpily and turned towards the kitchen.

“Actually” Feuilly said, standing up. “I’ve done this already and it’s not that interesting. I think I’ll go work on the rally with Enjolras instead. There’s a lot to plan.”

Bahorel made a noise that sounded much more like “Chicken” than a cough and Feuilly held up both his middle fingers in Bahorel’s direction as he exited the room.

“Alrighty, let’s get started!” Joly proclaimed with a huge grin on his face. “First, I had to promise Jehan to go over the rules. There are three ground rules for using a Ouija board that you have to know. Basically, never do it alone, never ask how they died and never leave without saying goodbye and closing the board.”

Combeferre looked around at his friends’ faces in the dimly lit room as Joly started to utter the words Jehan had taught him, asking for any spirit present to make itself known. They all shared a mixed look of excitement and trepidation, with the exception of Marius, who looked more like he was about to throw up.

Combeferre himself felt rather skeptical towards the whole event but both Joly and Bossuet had sworn to him that it actually worked and insisted that he try it. Well, he thought, it couldn’t hurt to see what happened.

Which, ten minutes later, appeared to be absolutely nothing.

“Maybe we should give up and watch a movie instead.” Marius suggested, sounding utterly relieved.

“Come on, just one more try, then we’ll stop.” Joly answered, stubborn as ever.

They all placed their fingers back on the planchette and Joly drew a breath to repeat the words. But before he’d even had a chance to speak, the planchette moved suddenly to Hello. It happened so quickly that both Combeferre and Cosette lost their grip on the little piece of wood.

“Whoa!” Bahorel exclaimed. “Who did that?”

They all looked around at each other, everyone seeming just as surprised as the next person.

Joly grinned. “Gentlemen, and Lady, I believe we have contact!”

“Okay.” Bahorel continued. “So, what do we ask it?”

“I heard that you’re not supposed to ask about death or anything personal about the ghost.” Marius stressed.

“So, what are we supposed to ask about then?” Bahorel sighed. “The weather?” Suddenly, the planchette started moving again.

W I N D Y

Joly was practically bouncing with excitement. “How many spirits are in this room?”

J U S T - M E

Combeferre scanned his friends’ faces to see if he could distinguish anyone deliberately moving the planchette. His bet was on Joly but he wasn’t a hundred percent sure.

“What’s your name?” Bahorel asked, and in turn made Marius whimper.

“Don’t worry, Marius, it’s just a game, remember” Cosette soothed.

Hello M A R I U S

“Oh my god! How did it know my name?!”

U R - G F - J U S T - S A I D

Cosette and Joly both snickered. “See” Cosette said. “It’s a funny ghost.”

“Oh, come on!” Bahorel interjected. “Someone is obviously moving the planchette. Ghosts don’t use text speak, do they?”

Everyone turned to Joly, as the impromptu Ouija expert. “Uhm, I don’t know. The spirits that Jehan communicates with have never spoken like that. Maybe it’s a young ghost?” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Oh, you mean recently deceased.” Bahorel whispered, smirking at Marius. “So, spirit, how old are you?”

2 2

“How long have you been 22?”

A - T W I L I G H T - R E F? - R E A L L Y?

Combeferre laughed. If Joly really was steering the planchette, at least he did it with a sense of humor.

“You still haven’t told us your name.” Bahorel continued.

For once, the planchette remained utterly still.

“Maybe it’s just shy” Cosette suggested. “Perhaps if we try to introduce ourselves first.” She looked at the others, who nodded in agreement. “I’m Cosette. And Marius you know already.”

“I’m Joly.” Suddenly the planchette began to move again. Combeferre focused his eyes on the fingers atop the wood, trying to figure out whether anyone was steering it.

W H A T - A B O U T - T H E - C U T E - Q U I E T - 1?

Cosette giggled. “Hey, Ferre, I think it’s talking about you.”

“What?” Concentrating on the participants fingers, Combeferre had completely missed which words had been spelled out.

“You should introduce yourself.” Joly pressed.

“Oh, okay. Uhm, I’m Combeferre.”

U - R - R E A L L Y - P R E T T Y

Marius laughed, seeming to have calmed down a bit. "I think it likes you!”

"Feels weird to call it 'it'” Cosette whispered.

"Right" Bahorel answered. "Do you have any pronouns you'd like us to use?"

H E

"Maybe you could score a boyfriend after all, Ferre." Bahorel laughed.

If Combeferre hadn't been convinced that Joly was moving the planchette before, he certainly was now. "I know that's you, Joly. And you're not funny."

"It's not me!"

I T - I S N T

Combeferre gave Joly his most well rehearsed unimpressed stare. "Seriously?"

Then, all of sudden, the dark room was filled with artificial light, as the table lamp began to blink in quick succession. At once, all of the people on the floor drew their breath. Marius made an undignified sound and Bahorel was half way to climbing into Cosette's lap.

"Holy shit, did you see that?" Joly cried. Combeferre had to admit that even he was shaken. Then, in an instant, the door to the kitchen flew open. A mix of shouts and swears amounted from different directions.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Feuilly asked from the door opening.

"Fucking Christ, Feuilly, you scared the living crap out of us!" Bahorel chided loudly. "You are so dead when we get home."

"Could we not talk about dead people, please." Marius whimpered.

"What are you guys doing?" Feuilly asked. "The lights in the kitchen are flickering like crazy.”

"Maybe it's just the weather" Combeferre suggested. A loud crash was heard and everyone jumped.

"SHIT!" Bahorel cried. Everyone turned to the source of the sound to see Enjolras's favourite coffee mug lying on the floor, its ear broken off.

"I'm not doing this anymore." Marius announced and hastily got up and walked pass Feuilly into the kitchen, followed by Cosette. The remaining three people on the floor looked at each other with uncertainty, trying to decide whether or not they should continue.

"Okay" Joly said at last. "I think we should keep going. Either way, we have to say goodbye and close the board properly.”

"All right" Bahorel agreed. Then he looked over to Feuilly, who was still standing in the door, looking perplexed and a bit shaken.

"What?" he snapped "Are you scared, Bahorel? Do you want me to come hold your hand?"

Bahorel snorted and turned back to the Ouija board. Combeferre could have sworn he heard him mutter "Yes" under his breath.

Once Feuilly had gone back to the kitchen and closed the door, the participants once again turned their focus to the game.

"Okay" Joly began. "You've proven you're here. We believe you." The planchette was still for a while. Then it began to move, at a slower pace than before.

S O R R Y - I - S C A R E D - U

"It's alright." Combeferre commented. "That was... kind of amazing actually. How did you do that?"

I T S - H A R D - T A K E S - N R G

The planchette moved slowly and almost shakily between the letters. "I think he exhausted himself." Joly said.

“I think you’re right” Bahorel agreed. “Maybe we should close the game.”

“No!” Combeferre exclaimed, not really thinking before he spoke. His friends turned to him, surprised by his uncharacteristic outburst. “I mean, there’s so much I want to ask. We just saw what could possibly be proof of otherworldly activity and you want to stop?”

Bahorel and Joly exchanged worried glances. But before they had a chance to respond, Cosette’s voice was heard from the kitchen. “We're coming through now, just so you know.”

The door opened and Marius and Cosette emerged, followed by Feuilly. “We’re going home guys. This was a little much for us.” Cosette said, holding the hand of a still frightened Marius.

“Yeah, I’m gonna head off too” Feuilly announced.

“Right.” Bahorel said. “I guess that’s my cue to leave as well.”

“We should say goodbye and close the board then.” Joly said. They all placed their fingers back on the planchette and Joly asked if it was alright to end the conversation. The planchette slowly and shakily made its way to Goodbye. Combeferre tried very hard to conceal his disappointment.


	2. Chapter 2

That night, Combeferre found it difficult to sleep. His thoughts were reeling with possible explanations to what he’d experienced. He tried to dissect every single thing that had occurred during the evening to see if he could find some sort of answer to how the different events could have happened. The Ouija board was easy enough; someone could have, perhaps unintentionally, moved the planchette. The flickering lights could be due to a glitch in the cords. There could easily have been a draft from when Feuilly opened the door, resulting in the coffee mug falling to the floor.

There were many plausible explanations for the separate phenomena, but when Combeferre put them all together he couldn’t help but wonder if there wasn’t in fact something else out there. The next day, Enjolras was at school and Combeferre was left alone in their apartment. He was supposed to be studying but try as he might, he was too distracted. He couldn’t stop looking around, searching for any unusual occurrences. He turned the lamps on and off several times but nothing happened.

Just as he was about to settle down on the couch with his textbook, his eyes were drawn to something on the coffee table. A dark wooden rectangle. Joly must have forgotten the Ouija board when he left the previous night. Trying to read when that thing was just in the corner of his vision proved impossible. It would be so easy to just light a candle and see if he could make contact. Still, Joly’s warnings kept ringing in his mind _“Never do it alone, never ask how they died and never leave without saying goodbye and closing the board.”_

Combeferre was usually not an impulsive person and he prided himself in being able to weigh the pros and cons before doing anything rash. Sitting there on the couch, however, all abilities to perform rational thinking seemed to have disappeared. Whoever it was that they had communicated with last night had seemed nice enough. Surely it couldn’t hurt to ask a few questions. Chances were that he wouldn’t even be able to make contact anyway.

Before he was even really aware that he’d made a decision, Combeferre found himself on the floor, lighting candles with the Ouija board in front of him. He was just about to start saying the words that Joly had used the previous night, when he heard the unmistakable sound of keys in the door. Combeferre’s heart raced as he tried to hide what he was doing as quickly as possible. It was all to no avail, however. When Enjolras entered the living room he was met by a flustered roommate on the floor and a trail of smoke rising from several candles.

“What are you doing?”

Combeferre considered lying and making up some kind of excuse, but he soon realized that it was far too obvious what he’d been attempting.

“Why do you still have the Ouija board? Weren’t you done with all that stuff last night? Anyway, I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do that by yourself.”

“Well, it’s just... Joly forgot this and I just wanted try it. I think we really made contact last night, Enjolras. You saw the lights flickering in the kitchen, right?”

“Oh, give me a break, Ferre. This is an old house, and the weather was pretty bad last night. I really wouldn't imagine you of all people to start drawing ridiculous conclusions about ghosts.”

“It’s not ridiculous. Don’t you think I’ve gone over every possible natural explanation for what happened? I just wanted to try and see if it would happen again. As a way to test my hypotheses.”

“Right, so this is a scientific experiment now, is it?”

“Uhm, yeah. You could call it that.”

“I don’t care what you call it, Ferre.” Enjolras shrugged off his jacket and walked towards the kitchen. “I don’t want you to do this in our home. It’s stupid and frankly, it’s making me uncomfortable.”

Combeferre sighed and followed his friend into the kitchen. When he entered, Enjolras turned around with a tricolore coffee mug in his hands. Combeferre had tried to glue the ear back on and left it to dry on the counter.

“What’s this?”

“Uhm… That wasn’t me.”

“Right, who was it then?”

“Actually” Combeferre started, giving Enjolras an indicative look.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. You’re not going to tell me that a ghost did this, are you?”

“That is what happened, what else am I supposed to say? It fell from the desk while we were all on the other side of the room.”

“Stop it, Ferre. This has gone too far. I don’t care if someone broke my coffee mug, but to blame it on a ghost?”

Combeferre sighed. He knew from experience that changing Enjolras’s mind when he held a firm belief was nearly impossible. But he also knew that he was one of the few people who had actually been able to do so. However, it wouldn’t be possible without strong, solid evidence.

“Listen, Enjolras. Why don’t we make a deal? Play the game with me, just once. If nothing happens, I promise to give the board back to Joly and never mention ghosts or anything paranormal ever again.” He could see Enjolras beginning to protest so he continued. “I’ll even get you another pretentious, hand painted coffee mug.”

Ten minutes later, Combeferre was sitting on the floor again, candles re-lit, with a very skeptical looking roommate on the opposite side of the board.

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.”

Combeferre smiled and started to recite the words to invite the presence of spirits. He had barely finished before the planchette began to move beneath his fingers. This time, he was certain that it wasn’t another player moving the piece.

It went to Hello and Combeferre looked over at Enjolras, who in turn looked thoroughly unimpressed.

“Who is it that we are speaking to?”

M E - A G A I N

“Are you the same spirit we spoke to last night?”

Yes

“Hi again.” Combeferre felt pleased and almost giddy at the thought of talking to the charismatic ghost from the day before.

“Is this supposed to convince me?” Enjolras asked.

Suddenly, the planchette began spinning in little circles. Then it started to move between the letters with determination.

E N J O L R A S

“What?” Enjolras asked Combeferre, who now felt very puzzled.

“Do you know him? “

Yes

“Oh. Are you related to him or something? Is that why you’re here?” Combeferre immediately felt a strange pang of something utterly unwelcome in his stomach. Even though he didn’t want to think about it, he knew what it was. Jealousy. He was used to standing in the background while Enjolras got most of the attention. And usually, he didn’t mind it. When it came their work with ABC, he was happy to be a steady hand on Enjolras’s shoulder, guiding him in the needed direction, even if that meant his efforts were sometimes overlooked by the greater public.

But this. This ghost or whatever it was. Combeferre had been thinking about him all night and all day. Enjolras didn’t even believe in it.

While Combeferre had been momentarily lost in his thoughts, the planchette had moved to No.

“What’s your name then?” Enjolras asked, a wry tone to his voice.

The planchette moved a little but didn’t spell out anything.

“He didn’t want to say his name yesterday either.” Combeferre explained.

“Oh, really? If you were going to try to convince me that we’re speaking to my dear old dead uncle, you could at least have bothered to do some research. Pick a name, you know.”

“I’m not moving it, Enj.”

H E S - N O T

“Hah. Oh, well, if the ghost says so then it must be true.”

U - D R A W - P O N I E S - I N - U R - N O T E B O O K

“What?!” Enjolras exclaimed. Combeferre could see that his cheeks were rapidly turning a dark shade of red. “It’s not… it’s horses, okay? I mean, I don’t draw anything in my notes.” He looked up at Combeferre, slightly bewildered. “Have you been going through my notebooks? Why would you do that?”

“I haven’t. I swear, Enjolras, I haven’t gone anywhere near them.” They both stayed quiet for a while until Combeferre couldn’t help himself any longer and snickered “You draw ponies in your notebook?”

“They’re not ponies, they’re horses.” Enjolras replied grumpily. “And that still doesn’t mean there’s a ghost.”

H O W S - I T - G O I N G - W - R?

Combeferre tried to put the letters together in his mind to make sense of what had been spelled out. “How’s what going?” He asked when he realized that he couldn’t decipher the message.

W I T H - R?

“R?” he asked, utterly confused. Then he happened to catch sight of Enjolras who, rather than looking confused or unconvinced, looked absolutely shocked.

“Combeferre.” He whispered. “You have to tell me if you’re doing this, because I’m starting to freak out a little.”

“I’m not doing anything. Wait, do you know what he’s talking about?”

Enjolras’s pale face once again reddened and he looked embarrassed in a way that Combeferre hardly ever saw in him.

“Uhm, maybe.” He started. “There’s this guy. He goes to my college, he’s an art student. I don’t know, we’ve kind of met in the cafeteria a few times…” He trailed off, looking down at the floor.

“Okaay. I’m sorry but I don’t get it. What does he have to do with this?”

“R. That’s his nickname. He’s called Grantaire.”

“Oh. So, wait a minute, are you dating someone? Why haven’t you told me?”

“I’m not dating him! Honestly. He just kind of shows up all the time and starts debating with me, he’s infuriating.” Even as he spoke those words, Combeferre could see a small smile playing on Enjolras’s lips. “But we’re not dating! Anyway, I don’t even think he likes me in that way.”

H E - T O T A L L Y - D O E S

Enjolras laughed. Apparently, he was just fine with this ghost that he didn’t even believe in commenting on his love life. Combeferre felt terribly confused and slightly annoyed. He wasn’t sure anymore if he was jealous of Enjolras for having a connection to the ghost, or if he was jealous of the ghost for knowing more things about his best friend than he did.

“Okay” he said, putting on his most no-bullshit authoritative voice. “You’ve messed with our electricity, you’ve scared off our friends and now you’ve revealed Enjolras’s secrets. Now, I want to know who you are. Tell us your name!”

The planchette remained where it was. Combeferre decided to try a different approach.

“Please? It’s just me and Enj here, it’s completely safe. We promise we won’t tell anyone.”

Enjolras gave him a skeptical eye. But then the planchette began to move.

F E Y

“Fey? Is that your name?”

Yes

Combeferre looked expectantly at Enjolras, who in turn shook his head.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. I’ve never heard it before and I think I’d remember a guy called Fey.”

“Yeah, you probably would.” Combeferre sighed, not quite sure if he felt disappointed or relieved.

“Listen, Ferre, I think we should quit now, I’ve got a lot of studying to do. This has been interesting and all, but it doesn’t actually prove anyth.. SHIT!”

Enjolras’s sentence was cut short when a bang was heard right next to them and two of the candles instantaneously went out. Combeferre was also taken aback as they both turned in the direction of the coffee table. On the ground was a mug of tricolore porcelain, which Enjolras had placed on the middle of the table before they sat down. The glued on ear was once again broken off.

Enjolras looked with wide eyes at Combeferre and reached for his arm. “I don’t like this. Let’s just close the game, okay?”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to scare us.” Combeferre started, but Enjolras's grasp tightened on his arm and he could see from his look that he was not going to listen to any excuses.

“Okay. Spirit… Fey. Thank you for talking to us but we would like to say goodbye now.”

No

“Yes!” Enjolras said with that type of commanding voice that could make a riot police switch sides in an instant. The planchette slowly moved to Goodbye.

After the board was packed away, Enjolras and Combeferre retreated to the kitchen. After a long moment of silence, Enjolras was the first to speak up.

“I’m not sure what just happened but I admit that it was not what I had expected. Whatever it was, I’m sorry for doubting you and calling you stupid.”

“Thanks.”

“But Combeferre, listen to me, because I am one hundred percent serious right now. I don’t want you, or anyone else, to ever attempt to contact ghosts in our home again.”

“What?” Combeferre felt a fear begin to rise inside him. “But I have so much I want to ask. Just imagine the knowledge that could come from this. This ghost can manipulate electricity, it can move objects, we can’t let this opportunity pass! Just because you’re afraid.”

Enjolras shook his head. “This is exactly what I was worried about. You’re right, Ferre, I am afraid. But not of some ghost with a weird name and a vendetta against my coffee mug. I’m afraid for you.”

Combeferre was dumbstruck. “What do you mean?”

“I know you. And I know how you get when you find some fascinating problem that you want to solve. You tend to become…” Enjolras let the sentence trail off and instead made some vague gestures with his hands.

“What, obsessed? Just because I like to get to the bottom of things and involve myself in interesting questions? You have a problem with that now?”

“No, of course not. You know that I admire that about you. But what if this isn’t something that you can solve with an equation or a philosophical theory? What if you get… stuck?”

Combeferre looked at his friend for a long while and he could see the genuine concern in his eyes. Finally, he sighed. “You’re right.”

“I am?”

“Yes, surprising as it may be, you are. And I see what you mean. I promise I won’t attempt to contact any more ghosts and I’ll give the Ouija board back to Joly.”

“Thank you, Ferre.”

“No problem. But you really don’t have to worry about me, you know.”

Enjolras smiled at him. “Of course I do. I will always worry about you and you’ll always worry about me. Otherwise, God knows where we would end up.”

Combeferre smiled back. “Well, I can’t argue with that. And speaking of looking out for each other, you should bring this R guy to a meeting.”

Combeferre was quite certain that he’d never seen Enjolras blush so many times in one night. “Yeah, maybe I will."


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the week was terribly distracting for Combeferre and come Friday he was absolutely exhausted. It wasn’t that he had more school work than usual, but he had never before found it quite so hard to concentrate. His mind was filled up with thoughts of the otherworldly entity that could perform inexplicable acts and who had called him pretty.

He’d lost count of how many times he’d googled the name Fey or how many hours he’d spent reading through various obituaries. So far, he hadn’t found anything and was starting to really understand what Enjolras meant by “becoming stuck”.

When the weekend came along, Combeferre had never been in more need of a good distraction. Luckily, it was never too hard to call an impromptu get together at the Corinth. Most of his friends showed up despite the snow that had begun to fall and, like every year, taken the public transportation completely by surprise. Another, decidedly bigger surprise was the fact that Enjolras showed up with a handsome, dark haired art student.

It soon became the talk on everyone’s lips and Combeferre was pleased that he wasn’t completely out of the loop as he was swarmed with questions about Enjolras’s mystery man. As the night progressed, the attention and the questions where turned from Combeferre to Grantaire himself and he was soon welcomed into the group. Combeferre felt a sense of contentment build inside him as he watched from the side lines. Grantaire seemed like a really good match for his best friend. Enjolras needed someone who could challenge him and at the same time balance out his graveness and bring him down to earth. Grantaire seemed to fit that role perfectly.

A few beers later, Combeferre found himself next to Jehan at the bar, awaiting an order of an obscene amount of liquor. At some point, someone had decided that the only way to officially welcome Grantaire into their circle was to hold a drinking competition. Shot glasses and lemons had already been placed on the largest table at the Corinth and everyone, even Enjolras, was lined up around it. They had done this before, but Combeferre did not have pleasant memories from that night. Actually, he didn’t have any memories from that night.

“So” Jehan said as they waited for their order. “I heard you had quite the encounter the other night.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“So, my dear Combeferre, have you turned into a believer?”

Combeferre gave a non-committal laugh, desperate for a change of subject. “Maybe. But I’m not going to try it again though. I’ve promised Enjolras.”

“Oh” An expression that Combeferre couldn’t quite place flittered across Jehan’s face as he tucked a dark dreadlock behind his ear. “That’s probably for the best. You can’t be too careful, you know.”

Combeferre wondered momentarily if Jehan shared Enjolras’s concerns about him becoming too invested in things. He wondered if they all did. He didn’t have time to ponder on it though, as the bartender placed several bottles of various liquors before them.

The game began and Enjolras was the first to fold after a respectable three shots. Bossuet was voted out after spilling two drinks in a row. After that, everyone kept a fairly even pace. Combeferre knew that he was good at holding his drinks but he also knew not to underestimate either Jehan or Feuilly, not to mention how Grantaire seemed to swallow shot after shot like it was water. When Joly finally folded, Combeferre decided that the smart thing was to join him.

Joly got them a pitcher of water and they sat down on a bench in a corner, observing the remaining contestants. “So, have you heard anything from that ghost that hit on you?” Joly teased.

“Shut up” Combeferre laughed. He once again found himself desperate to change the topic. “Anyway, how are you these days, Joly?”

Joly produced a loud sigh. “Ugh, I’ve had one hell of a week to be honest.”

“Oh?” Combeferre looked over to where Bossuet was sitting with Enjolras at a table across the room. “Not relationship trouble, I hope?”

“God, no! If it wasn’t for Bossuet I probably never would have made it through. It’s the hospital. Nothing serious really, I’m just tired of being treated like a servant. I’m there to learn how to save lives, you know, not fetch people coffee.”

Combeferre put a sympathetic arm around his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sure that’s not all you do.”

“Well, no, but I just feel like I get taken advantage of because I’m the youngest of all the interns.” He shook his head. “Like, this week, we had a patient who didn’t have any living relatives in the country and the only ones we could find were some cousins in France. And of course, because I speak French, everyone just assumed that I would deal with it. So, instead of actually learning things, I’ve been forced to make transatlantic calls at unreasonable hours of the day just to speak to these French jerks. Honestly, Ferre, they’re horrible.”

“Je suis désolé, mon ami. Vous êtes un homme bon.” Combeferre said and bumped Joly’s shoulder. “Now, cheer up. And look, I think we have a winner.”

There did indeed seem to be a winner of the drinking competition, as Jehan shook hands with a triumphant Grantaire. Suddenly, Joly burst out laughing and pointed to where Bahorel was slumped down in his chair with his head resting in Feuilly’s lap.

After that, those who remained on their feet sat down to have a few more beers and before long, Combeferre’s head was spinning. When Feuilly carried Bahorel out to a taxi, Combeferre decided to join them and split the fare, as he lived on the way. Combeferre said goodbye to his friends and left the bar feeling at least a little better than when he came.

As soon as Combeferre reached his home however, the pleasant feelings seemed to evaporate and he was left with a strange melancholy. The apartment felt empty and unwelcoming. He and Enjolras usually came home together after going out. They’d make tea or watch television, sometimes falling asleep together on the couch.

He was really happy that Enjolras had found someone and that he’d been enjoying himself so much tonight, he truly was. But he couldn’t deny that it would have been nice to have someone to talk to.

As he took off his jacket he was struck by how cold the apartment was. The first snow had undoubtedly lowered the degrees and as always, their horrible landlord refused to put the heat up more than the absolute minimum and sometimes not even that. Neither the pleadings of old Mrs. Meade nor Enjolras’s frequent threats seemed to face the man.

Which is why their apartment usually resembled some sort of Satanist church in the winter with all the candles they lit to keep warm. And why Enjolras looked like a particularly colorful sheep most of the time, bundled up in all sorts of knitted gear. He had an entire box of knitted sweaters, scarves and hats that Jehan had made them.

Combeferre went into his room in search of some candles to light in order to push the degrees up at least a little bit. Once he’d lit them, he was reminded of another occasion in which candles had been used. His mind was blurry from all the alcohol but he still tried to force it to operate rationally. It didn’t help much, as the only thoughts he could focus on were the fact that he was all alone, Enjolras probably wouldn’t be back for at least an hour and he still had the Ouija board in a plastic bag under his bed.

Combeferre was not usually one to do stupid things while drunk and then blame his inebriation to avoid responsibility. He had plenty of friends who did that and he was content to act as their conscience when he could, or clean up their mess when he couldn’t. But considering all that, hadn’t he earned the right to act a little irresponsible for once? And besides, he just wanted to talk to someone; he wasn’t likely to end up in custody. Or in a shopping cart suspended from a tree. What a night that had been.

Combeferre carefully lifted the candles from his desk and put them in a circle on the floor and from there, it was just a little too easy to pull the board out and say the words.

Hello

“Hi” Combeferre whispered, as if whispering would somehow make it less illicit.

U – R – D R U N K

“What, how did you know that?”

U – S M E L L – O F – T E Q U I L A

“Oh. Shit, I’m sorry”

A N D – U R – S W A Y I N G

“Wait a minute” There was something important here that Combeferre didn’t want to miss. “You can smell me?”

P U T – I T – L I K E – T H A T – I T – S O U N D S – C R E E P Y

“You’re a ghost, aren’t you supposed to be creepy?”

T O U C H E

Combeferre laughed and he could feel a grin spreading on his face. Hanging out with his friends may have helped to take his mind off things for a while, but talking to Fey made him happy. He felt utterly exuberant and thrilled and it wasn’t just because of the alcohol.

W H A T S – F U N N Y?

“Nothing. I’m just excited to talk to you. I’ve been wanting to all week, you know. I’ve thought about you like, all the time.” Now he was rambling but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. That, he did blame on the drinks.

The planchette kept still for a while. “Fey? Are you there?” Still nothing. Combeferre felt a nervousness spread inside him. What if he had been to forward, what if he’d scared the ghost off? “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn’t mean it like that. I just, you know, wanted to know more about ghosts. Or poltergeists? Uhm, theoretically I mean. For science.”

W O W

“What?”

U – R – A D O R A B L E – W H E N – U R – D R U N K

Combeferre felt a heat rise in his cheeks despite the low temperature in the room.

I – L I K E – T A L K I N G – 2 – U – 2

“Thanks. But we’re not supposed to, though. I promised Enjolras I wouldn’t use the Ouija board again.”

W H Y?

“He’s… afraid.”

H E – T H I N K S – I L L – C O R R U P T – Y O U?

Combeferre felt his heart speed up. His head was still spinning and he wasn’t sure where this conversation was going. “Will you?”

M A Y B E

Just as Combeferre tried to come up with a response to that, he heard the door open and the sound of footsteps in the hall. He was immediately caught with a reflex to hide what he was doing. He quickly blew out the candles and shoved the Ouija board under his bed.

Combeferre knew that there was a very real possibility that Enjolras would come in and check if he was still awake. And with the current near freezing temperature in the apartment, there was a chance that Enjolras would want to share his bed to keep warm. Something that was especially likely to happen if Enjolras was drunk, as he tended to become a little clingy after a few drinks. Which was a constant source of amusement to their friends and, Combeferre suspected, the reason why Enjolras didn’t drink very often.

Combeferre felt a horrible pang of guilt at having broken his promise to his friend and he was terrified of being caught out. He quickly got into bed, pulled up the covers and pretended to sleep. But his bedroom door never opened and soon Combeferre realized that there was more than one voice in the living room. He couldn’t hear exactly what they were saying but he did catch a few words. “He’s probably sleeping. Be quiet. My room’s that way.”

Combeferre felt a wave of relief flood through him. He’d escaped without being caught. Everything had worked out for the best really, he thought as he relaxed under the warm covers. He’d had a great time with his friends, he’d gotten to speak to Fey and Enjolras was happy too. Nothing bad could happen now, he thought as he fell asleep with a smile on his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments and the kudos! They really help a lot! I'm having so much fun writing this and I hope people enjoy reading it as well :)

The next morning Combeferre awoke with the headache of the century. He groaned as he sat up in his bed. He tried to remember how much he’d actually drunk last night. It didn’t feel as if it was enough to warrant a hangover like this one. He slowly got up and made his way to the kitchen. Once he arrived he was met by a very pleasant surprise; freshly made coffee which filled the whole room with a lovely smell.

Very soon after moving in together, Combeferre and Enjolras had realized that they shared one rather bad trait. They could easily rival each other for the title of worst morning person in history. Neither of them were able to function without a large amount of coffee in the morning and their shared breakfasts usually consisted of them making undistinguishable noises at each other until they’d filled up with enough caffeine to actually hold an interpretable conversation.

They had quickly established a routine of always preparing the coffee maker before they went to bed so that the first person who woke up just had to press the button and wait for the treasured beverage to brew.

Combeferre poured himself a cup and sat down at the table. After a few minutes, Enjolras entered the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket and looking rather dishevelled, even for him.

“Good morning.” Enjolras smiled at Combeferre and there was something dreamy in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Morning. I’ve got the hangover from hell, but otherwise I’m fine. How about you?”

“Oh. I’m good.” Enjolras couldn’t keep a huge grin from spreading on his face as he spoke. “Sorry about the hangover.”

“Thanks. It’s shaping up though.” Combeferre raised his coffee mug to Enjolras. “Thanks for making coffee, I really need it.”

Enjolras’s spaced out expression disappeared for a moment as his eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I didn’t make coffee. I just got up. And… well, Grantaire is still in bed.”

“Oh, right. Uhm, I must have put in on before. I forgot. Maybe I’m still a bit drunk.” Combeferre tried his best to laugh it off even as his mind began to run.

“Okay” Enjolras said, not sounding terribly convinced but he dropped the subject and poured two mugs of coffee to take into his room.

“So, you and Grantaire, huh?”

“Yeah” Enjolras said and that stupid grin immediately plastered itself back on his face.

“I’m really happy for you” Combeferre said honestly. And then, because he couldn’t help himself; “How was it?”

“Great. It was really great, Ferre. I promise I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Combeferre nodded towards Enjolras’s bedroom. “Go see to your man.”

“Thanks, Ferre” Enjolras smiled and gave Combeferre a kiss on the cheek before heading back to the bedroom.

As soon as he was left alone, Combeferre’s mind started racing. He knew that he hadn’t put the coffee maker on. Unless he had suddenly started sleep walking, he was one hundred percent sure that the coffee had already been made when he woke up. And if Enjolras hadn’t made it… Suddenly, like a lightning strike, a very vivid memory from the previous night appeared in Combeferre’s mind. The Ouija board.

Combeferre scrambled to get up so quickly that he almost knocked the table over as he made his way back to his room. There were traces of wax on the floor and when Combeferre knelt down and looked under his bed, he saw several candles which had been hastily shoved in along with the Ouija board. He felt his heart constrict in his chest. He had used the Ouija board last night. On his own. And then, oh God, he tried to remember. Had he said goodbye and closed the game?

The memories started steadily flowing back. He had been very drunk. He had talked to Fey. He had gotten into bed when Enjolras came home and then. He'd fallen asleep.

Shit. Not only had he broken his promise to his best friend. He'd broken two of the three ground rules for using a Ouija board in one night. He’d done it on his own and he’d neglected to say goodbye and close the game. He had no idea what consequences his behavior could possibly have. He carefully looked around in his room. Nothing appeared to have changed. So far, the only thing that seemed to have happened was that there’d been freshly made coffee when he woke up. Which, honestly, wasn’t so bad.

Making sure that his door was closed and putting a chair against the handle just to be sure, Combeferre brought out the board and carefully lit one of the candles. His trembling finger had barely touched the wood before the planchette began to move.

G O O D – M O R N I N G – H A N D S O M E

“Fey, is that you?”

D O – A – L O T – O F – O T H E R – P P L – F L I R T – W – U – ON – T H E – O U I J A?

“No. And you shouldn’t either. I shouldn’t really be taking to you at all. I forgot to say goodbye last night and that’s not good.”

W H Y?

“I don’t know. It’s a rule. If you don’t say goodbye you might let evil into your home or something?” Combeferre was honestly very uncertain of the actual reasons behind the rules; he just knew that breaking them was strongly discouraged. “You probably know these things better than I do anyway.“

D O N T – W O R R Y – I L L – P R O T E C T – U – F R O M – T H E – M O N S T E R S

“Could you stop being cute please, I’m trying to tell you that I can’t talk to you anymore.”

C A N T – O R – W O N T

“Can’t. I promised Enjolras.”

H E – W O N T – K N O W

“Oh, yeah? And you don’t think he’s going to notice the coffee making itself in the morning?”

The planchette stilled. Combeferre worried that he had been too harsh. Manipulating electronics was quite a remarkable thing for a ghost to be able to do and Combeferre hadn’t meant to berate Fey for it.

S O R R Y

“No, don’t apologize. I’m sorry. I know you only wanted to be nice and I’m honestly extremely impressed by everything you do.”

S O – L E T – M E – S T A Y

Combeferre closed his eyes and took a deep breath. No one should be forced to make potentially life changing decisions at eight in the morning, on an empty stomach, with the world’s worst hangover, behind a barricaded door.

On one hand, Combeferre had to ask himself whether this was worth potentially loosing Enjolras’s trust over. There were few things in his life that he valued more than his friendship with his roommate. On the other hand, he was terribly tempted to keep Fey around. And, he had begun to realize, it wasn’t just because of the scientific significance of the phenomenon but because there was something about this ghost, about this person, that seemed to draw him in.

Without realizing it, Combeferre had dropped his fingers on to the planchette and he felt it begin to move.

P L E A S E – U – R – T H E – O N L Y – 1 – I – H A V E

And that was it, really. Combeferre could practically hear his resolve shattering.

“Alright” He whispered. “But we have to keep this between us. No one else can know, okay?”

O F C – T H N K – U – D A R L I N G

Combeferre felt his cheeks heat up. “You shouldn’t call me things like that, you don’t even know me.”

I D – L I K E – 2

“Yeah, me too.” Combeferre shifted in an effort to make himself more comfortable on the floor. Now that he’d decided to let Fey stay, he was starting to become aware of how communicating via a piece of wood wasn’t really an ideal situation for getting to know someone. “I just wish there was some other way we could talk to each other. It’s kind of hard following everything you write. Especially today.”

Y E A H – U – W E R E – P R E T T Y – W A S T E D – L A S T – N I T E

“What?” Combeferre asked, having completely lost track of the sentence after the word pretty.

I – H A V E – A N – I D E A

“Okay”

C O M P U T E R

Combeferre gave the board a skeptical look before getting up and fetching his laptop.

“Okay. What am I supposed to do with it now?” Combeferre put his fingers on the planchette and waited. It remained absolutely still. “Fey? Are you there?”

When nothing happened, Combeferre started his laptop and opened an empty Word document, since that seemed to make the most sense. Then he waited patiently for some sign of activity. For a very long time nothing happened. Even though Combeferre kept his hand on the planchette and repeated Fey’s name, his room seemed to be completely empty except for himself.

He was suddenly brought out of his concentration by a voice on the other side of his bedroom door. “Hey, Ferre, are you still awake? There’s breakfast if you’re interested. Grantaire is making something that I think is supposed to be pancakes.”

As if on cue, Combeferre felt his stomach rumble and he had to admit that pancakes, however questionable they might be, sounded like a very good idea. “Be with you in a second” he shouted back.

After having sat through a breakfast during which Enjolras and Grantaire alternated between being lost in adoring gazes and making awkward attempts at conversation which turned into bickering and then back, Combeferre returned to his room. He looked around to see if anything had changed, but things seemed to be exactly as he’d left them.

He sighed and sat down on his bed, bringing his laptop with him. When he looked at the screen he was met by a surprise. The document that he’d left open was now anything but empty. The page was filled with letters and signs, seeming to have been arranged completely at random. Combeferre scrolled down to find several pages of undecipherable combinations of characters. It looked as if a cat had walked over the keyboard. And then, at the very end of the document, things started to make sense. He could feel his excitement spark up as he read the last few lines.

_Wait, I think I’ve got it. Yes, I’ve figured it out! Combeferre, can you see this?_

“Fey, have you written this?” Combeferre held his breath as he watched the screen with suspense.

_Hi! Yeah, it was kinda difficult but I think I’ve got it now._

Combeferre could barely believe his eyes as the words appeared on the page. He looked intently at the keyboard and even brushed his fingers against the keys. There was nothing to indicate a presence other than the letters that became visible on the screen. “How are you doing that?” he whispered.

_I don’t know, I just have to concentrate really hard. Now that I’ve got the hang of it, it’s actually easier than moving the planchette._

“Wow. That is incredible, you’re incredible!” Combeferre gushed. “How does it work, though? No offense, but how do you exist? In what form, I mean. Do you have a body that I can’t see?”

The cursor stood blinking for quite a long time and Combeferre once again started to worry that he’d made a mistake and said something that was out of line. Then there was activity on the screen again.

_Thinking about my body, are you?_

Combeferre laughed and shook his head. Fey was incorrigible. It wasn’t at all what he’d meant, but now that the thought had been planted in his head, Combeferre couldn’t help but wonder.


	5. Chapter 5

During the following couple of days, Combeferre hardly ever left his laptop. He spent hours every day talking to Fey. After a while, having a conversation by speaking out to an empty room and waiting for a reply to magically appear on a screen seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Fey was amazing. He was funny and quick witted and it was sometimes a little too easy to forget that he didn’t actually exist in any conventional way.

Combeferre had to regularly remind himself of that rather fundamental fact; that Fey wasn’t alive. Their friendship had become so comfortable so fast that Combeferre sometimes feared that he’d give himself away by referring to Fey in everyday conversations. He’d had to bite his tongue more than once to stop himself from mentioning something that Fey had said to his friends. Luckily for Combeferre, Enjolras was completely caught up in his own budding relationship and seemed to walk around on pink clouds, oblivious to most things going on around him.

Even when Combeferre was in school or when he attended the weekly meeting with ABC, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to his conversations with the ghost. Which was unfortunate for the members of ABC, as both the leader of the group and his second in command seemed more than a little distracted. In fact, after the meeting had ended, they were both approached by a very worried Joly, who asked them to list their symptoms.

It wasn’t just the daily conversations that had Combeferre captivated though. The feats that Fey could achieve had him absolutely astonished. He’d learned that moving things was quite difficult and required a lot of concentration from Fey, so unfortunately he wasn’t able to see much of that. Manipulating electricity seemed to be an easier task and Combeferre no longer had to turn on the lights when he came home, or turn them off when he went to bed. He didn’t even put his alarm on anymore, Fey always made sure it rang at the exact right time every morning. Things seemed to adjust themselves around Combeferre and as a result, he found that his terrible morning mood decreased.

It appeared to Combeferre that the entire apartment was filled with a much more pleasant atmosphere. There seemed to be tons of little changes that wouldn’t have been noticeable if he hadn’t been looking for them. The lights were always dimmed just right to fit the mood of whoever was in a certain room. There was always freshly made coffee waiting for Combeferre when he got up. Fey even seemed to have memorized the schedules of the inhabitants and never did anything suspicious when Enjolras was around.

The most significant of all these changes though, was one that was definitely noticeable. Despite the fact that it was the coldest December in years and that the snow storm that raged outside never seemed to end, Combeferre and Enjolras’s apartment kept a perfectly warm and comfortable temperature. Enjolras, to Combeferre’s great amusement, was triumphantly convinced that his complaints had finally led their landlord to see straight.

“You see, Combeferre, with good rhetoric and the right kind of persuasion, you can make anyone do the right thing!” he'd declared.

Combeferre had just rolled his eyes and tried not to snicker as the lamp behind Enjolras blinked. He couldn’t very well explain that he was sharing a joke with someone that neither of them could see.

Combeferre soon found out that Fey wasn’t just sweet and funny. He was caring as well. About a week after their first conversation on the computer, Combeferre sat down, opened his laptop and called Fey’s name. It usually didn’t take long to get an answer but this time, there was absolutely nothing. Combeferre tried calling for Fey several times and even wrote down his name in the document to no avail. Just as he was beginning to get worried, he noticed the lights over his desk flickering. When he went over, he saw that the lamp was illuminating his text book, which was opened at the exact page that he was supposed to read for class.

“Is this your way of telling me that I should study?” When Combeferre looked at his laptop again, a new line had appeared.

_Hell yeah, it is. I will not have you waste that brilliant mind of yours, mister. And I will not be responsible for any academic failure._

Combeferre felt something warm rise in his chest and he just stood there, smiling.

_Now get to work, I won’t talk to you again until you’ve read at least four chapters. Oh, and good luck ;)_

His conversations with Fey went on, and Combeferre came to like his ghostly companion more and more every day. There was, however, one rather important issue that frustrated him about the situation. As much as he enjoyed telling Fey about his day or discussing ideas for ABC’s progress, he hadn’t forgotten his initial aim in communicating with a spirit. As talkative and intelligent as Fey appeared, he was very quiet about matters regarding himself and his existence.

At first, Combeferre had practically bombarded Fey with questions. “How do you perceive the world? How do you move things? Can you see other ghosts? Why are you in our home? How did you know Enjolras?”

He had soon learned that those questions were neither encouraged nor wanted. He usually got the same response; _I don’t know. I just concentrate._ They were short, insipid answers before Fey demonstratively changed the subject. He wasn’t tactless either, he would usually ask Combeferre about something that he was passionate about or he’d say something flirty to distract Combeferre from his intentions. If he pressed on with his questions, Fey would stop writing. After a while, Combeferre got the hint and simply stopped asking.

He didn’t stop thinking about it though. It was utterly frustrating. He felt like had Lee Harvey Oswald in front of him but he refused to answer why Kennedy was murdered. Not that Fey refused to answer, per say. And as disappointed as Combeferre was about not achieving a scientific understanding of life after death, he didn’t want to risk frightening Fey away by asking questions that the ghost didn’t want, or perhaps was unable, to answer.

While Combeferre tried to accept the fact that he may never know exactly how Fey existed, there was another aspect that began to weigh more and more on his mind. As their friendship progressed, Combeferre realized that he wasn’t just interested in how Fey was, but also in who he was. All he really knew about him was that he’d died when he was 22 and that he had some sort of connection to Enjolras. The way he wrote also indicated that, unless he was just a really up to date ghost, he’d most likely lived during this century.

Almost two weeks after agreeing to let Fey stay in his home, Combeferre sat in his bed, reading Enjolras’s drafts for speeches to hold at their upcoming rally. He had several documents open on his computer and regularly checked the one named “Fey”. The ghost had proved a very helpful resource when it came to all things considering ABC and had provided several useful and innovative ideas that Combeferre, a little guiltily, had been forced to take credit for.

Going over the text that Enjolras had sent him, Combeferre asked the conceivably empty room for any suggestions.

_Yeah, you should tell Enjy to undo another button when he’s holding the speech. Make good use of that sex appeal, you know._

Combeferre shook his head in amusement, but at the same time there was another feeling tugging in his chest. “So, you think Enjolras is sexy?”

_Well, I have got eyes. Not technically, but I can see him._

“Oh” Combeferre felt his heart sink. What if Fey was here because he had some sort of unresolved infatuation with Enjolras?

_Anyone can see that he’s hot. But he’s not really my type._

“He isn’t? What is your type then?”

_I usually go for tall, sandy blonde hair, glasses. It really limits my field tbh._

Combeferre couldn’t help a stupid grin from appearing on his lips and he was quite certain that any attempts to keep from blushing were futile. “Oh God, you have to stop saying things like that.”

_Why?_

"Because I don’t know what to say when you do. I mean, I’m flattered but…” He trailed off, not quite sure how to explain to Fey that he felt hopelessly lost whenever he tried to flirt back. Especially considering the fact that Fey knew so much about him, while he knew almost nothing about the ghost. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, it just makes me feel…”

_Yes? How does it make you feel ;)_

“Well, it honestly makes me feel uneasy. And a bit frustrated.”

_Oh. That’s… so not what I was expecting. Sorry?_

“No, please, don’t apologize. It’s just that, well, I don’t know anything about you. You keep complementing me but I have no idea what you even look like.” Combeferre made an aggravated sigh. He really hoped that he hadn’t overstepped the line but he just couldn’t keep it in any longer.

The cursor stood blinking under the last line Fey had written for a long time. “Fey, are you still there?”

_Yeah, sorry. Do you really wanna know what I look like?_

“Yes, I really do!” Combeferre felt his excitement rise as he stared at the page in anticipation.

_I’m tall, muscled, built like a male model really. Perfect hair. Dark, smouldering eyes, eyelashes to die for._

“Feey” Combeferre interrupted with an amused tone. “I want you to be honest with me. I’m not going to care what you look like. I just want know who I’m talking to, I want to be able to picture you. Now, tell me what you look like. What you really look like, please.” The cursor stood still for a moment.

_What if you’re disappointed? If I’m nothing like u pictured?_

“I won’t be, I promise. I already like you and there’s no way I’m going to stop talking to you, okay?”

_Okay, fine. If you promise._

“I do”

_Well, tbh I’m more skinny than muscled. But I am quite tall. Not like you, but that’s an unfair comparison anyway, cause you’re a freak._

“Hey!” Combeferre protested.

_A very cute freak :)_

Combeferre shook his head as he waited for Fey to continue.

_I’ve got brown hair, quite dark. And kind of curly I suppose, never really goes where I want it to. Let’s see... green eyes._

Without being aware of it, a warm smile had formed on Combeferre’s lips as he started to imagine the boy he’d never seen.

“What else?” he asked.

_Hmm… There’s one thing, but I don’t really like it. I’ve got a lot of freckles. It’s absolutely dreadful in the summer :/_

Combeferre suddenly became very aware of the smile that just seemed to grow. He didn’t really mind it, though.

_What r u smiling about?_

“You.” He answered truthfully. “You sound...”

_What? Nothing like you’d imagined?_

“Gorgeous. And just my type.”

_Really?_

“Really! And just so you know, I think freckles are very sexy”

_Hey. Who’s making who blush now?_

“Can ghosts even blush?”

_Shut up :P_

That night, Combeferre had his first dream of dark curls, green eyes and warm, freckled skin. When he woke up, he was drenched in sweat and he knew that he was in trouble.


	6. Chapter 6

If Combeferre had been a little too invested in the unconventional relationship with a paranormal presence before, finding out what Fey looked like certainly did nothing to quench his interest. Having at least approximate features to pair with that funny, intelligent and caring personality only served to make his feelings grow stronger. As much as he tried not to think about it, there were times when Enjolras’s words from a few weeks prior reappeared in Combeferre’s mind; _“What if you get stuck?”._ He wondered if his friend had any idea just how right he’d been.

The truth was that Combeferre had started to think about Fey in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with scientific curiosity. At nights, after he’d closed his laptop, Combeferre would lie in bed, unable to stop certain thoughts from popping into his head. He would imagine what it would be like if Fey was really there with him; a living body next to him, warm breath against his skin and a voice that would whisper in his ear. He’d envision of a pair of green eyes gazing into his own, dark curls brushing against his cheeks and soft lips meeting his. He would reach down under the covers and imagine freckled hands tentatively running over his skin. He’d bring himself off quietly mouthing Fey’s name.

Afterwards, Combeferre would feel a hopelessness encompassing him. He knew that his fantasies were unattainable and that the thoughts would only serve to hurt him in the future but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Most other things in his life had taken on such a dull disposition in comparison to Fey and Combeferre had started to spend less and less time with his friends. There was more than one unanswered text in phone and although he felt guilty about it, he didn’t do much to change the situation.

Even if Combeferre had wanted to stop his unhealthy thoughts, it wouldn’t have made much difference. Not even in his sleep could he escape his longing, something that he became acutely aware of a few days after Fey had described himself. It was the middle of the middle of the night when Combeferre suddenly woke up from an unfairly erotic dream to find that several lamps in his room were turned on. He sat up in his bed, covered in sweat, and tried to get his breathing back to normal.

“Fey?” His bedside lamp blinked.

Combeferre brought his laptop into the bed and hurried to turn it on. As soon as he’d opened a document he reached for his glasses, blinking to make his eyes adjust to the sudden light. “What’s going on?”

_Are u OK?_

“Uhm, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

_You called for me._

“I did? No, I was sleeping.”

_You called my name. Several times and quite loudly, I thought something had happened._

Shit! Suddenly, Combeferre’s newly awoken brain caught up and he realized what had happened. He tried to think of something to say but his thoughts were still jumbled. His embarrassment overwhelmed him and he ended up snapping “Are you watching me when I sleep? That’s not fucking okay!”

_No, I’m not fucking watching you sleep but when you call my name, I come._

Oh God, that phrasing did not help Combeferre’s situation in any way. He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself down. “Okay, I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m just really bad at waking up in the middle of the night, sorry.”

_It’s alright._

As if to prove that his apology was accepted, all the lamps faded out.

“Thanks” Combeferre sighed, running his hand trough his sweat damp hair. “So, if you’re not watching me sleep, what do you do when we’re not talking?” Strangely, that question had completely escaped Combeferre’s mind before now.

_I don’t know. I’m not anywhere really. Unless I concentrate on being here, it’s just kinda… void. Can’t explain it. But I do hear when u call for me._

“I see.” Well, Combeferre hadn’t exactly expected a more enlightening answer.

_Speaking of which, why were you calling for me in the middle of the night?_

Combeferre didn’t know what to say. Finally, he decided to go with the truth. “I had a dream. Must have talked in my sleep.”

_Oh. A nightmare?_

“No” Combeferre didn’t know why he said it, perhaps he was still a little groggy. “It was quite the opposite, actually.” He didn’t dare look at the screen for a long time, wishing he could just sink into a hole in the floor. When he finally did look up, the words on the screen were exactly what he had feared.

_Oh. I didn’t know you thought about me like that._

Combeferre felt an unbearable shame rise inside him as he buried his face in his hands. Flirty as Fey may be, the fact still remained that this was a dead person. A dead boy who for some reason was bound to this earth, unable to find peace and who had reached out to Combeferre for company. And he had taken that trust and reduced it to something filthy. “I’m so sorry, Fey. I know I shouldn’t think about you in that way and I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore.”

_What? Stop right there, why the hell r u apologizing? Don’t u realize that I feel the same way about you?_

Combeferre stared blankly at the screen before whispering “You do?”

_Uhm, yeah. I thought that was fairly obvious. But I wasn’t sure if you felt the same. Tbh, I didn’t think you ever could..._

“What, why not?”

_Well, how could you? You can’t even see me._

Combeferre didn’t think he’d ever felt this frustrated before in his life. “Fuck, Fey, you have no idea how much I wish I could. God, if you were here, if I could see you, if I could just touch you…” Combeferre sighed and shook his head in despair.

_What would you do if you could?_

Combeferre tried to shake off the despondency that threatened to take hold of him and answered as honestly as he could. “I would kiss you. I’d hold you and I’d never let you go.”

_Tell me about your dream._

Combeferre laughed in disbelief. “Really, that’s how you want to handle this whole mess?”

_Just bare with me, I want to try something._

“What?” Combeferre asked warily.

_Do you trust me?_

“I… yeah, I suppose I do.”

_Lie down and close your eyes. Think of your dream. Imagine that I’m there with you. Imagine what I would be doing._

Combeferre swallowed hard and did as he was commanded. He closed his eyes and thought back to the dream. He couldn’t remember it very clearly but he knew that he’d been in his bed, and that Fey had been there with him, so real and vivid. Combeferre’s breath grew heavier as he went further into the memories and then, oh God, he could swear he felt a pressure above him. It was like a weight that had appeared on top of his body. He kept thinking about Fey. He arched his head back as he imagined lips kissing his neck.

He didn’t even have to use his own hand to be able to sense something touching his skin. It felt just like warm fingers running down his sides, skimming over his ribs. And with those fingers, he could swear he felt warm, wet kisses bestowed on his chest. Combeferre had to bite his lips to suppress a moan as the perceived kisses ventured lower.

I all felt so undeniably real. Fuck, he wanted so badly to just reach out and touch that desired body above him, but he knew deep down that he would find nothing there. Logically, he knew that his covers were the only thing touching him and yet it felt so real that he thought he’d combust. He screwed his eyes shut as his mind fought so hard between what he knew and what he felt that it almost hurt.

His heart raced as he was overcome with the sensation of hands pressing into his thighs and then, lips on his already hard cock. Combeferre had to grip the sheets not to move his hands as he thrust up into the non existent mouth. He knew there was nothing there, but good God, he could swear he felt it. A warm, wet friction around him that seemed to so obviously be the doing of a beautiful boy with dark hair and green eyes. Finally, Combeferre couldn’t stand it any longer and moved his hand to his cock. He was able to finish with barley a touch and as he did, Fey’s name seemed to automatically roll off his lips.

Afterwards, Combeferre kept his eyes closed for a long time. He tried to imagine that the other man was still with him. He willed his mind to create the feeling of him climbing up in the bed to rest his head on Combeferre’s chest. But, try as he might, the sensation was gone. A lump settled in Combeferre’s throat and an unsettling feeling rose inside him. He wanted nothing more than to open his eyes and stare into a pair of sparkling, green orbs above a freckled nose. To see a satisfied smile and a pair of lips move towards him for a kiss.

He swallowed hard and in that moment, the fact that his imaginations would never become reality hit him like sledge hammer and he felt like his heart was being torn out. The harsh and abrupt realization produced a sort of painful whimper from him. When Combeferre finally did open his eyes he was, as anticipated, alone in his room. He brought the laptop up to his heaving chest.

“Fey?” The white page remained clear. “Are you there, can you answer me?”

_Think I kinda exhausted myself._

“Oh. So, wait, did you actually… How did you do that?”

_Concentration_

The letters appeared very slowly on the screen and Combeferre decided it best to let Fey recover and not ask anything more of him for tonight. “I don’t quite understand what just happened, but for what it’s worth, that was amazing.”

_Yes it was. U r amazing, darling._

Combeferre smiled and tried to disregard the constricting feelings inside him as he whispered “Good night, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what to say about this chapter. Sorry, I tried, don't look at me?


	7. Chapter 7

The next day, Combeferre walked around in a daze. There was a persistent worry in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t seem to get rid of. He feared that he’d gotten himself in too deep and was concerned about the consequences of his behavior. His outlook on the future seemed, at the moment, anything but bright. How was he supposed to lead a normal life when he was in love with a ghost?

Combeferre had avoided talking to Fey after he woke up and had instead spent the better part of the morning pacing in the living room. His thoughts were a mess and it didn’t help that he had no one to confide in. The only person that he could actually talk to about this, well, he didn’t technically exist. Right at that moment, the ceiling lamp turned on and Combeferre assumed that Fey’s presence was close. God, he wished that he could greet him like he would a living person who walked into the room. But Fey was, and forever would be, invisible. Combeferre let out pained sigh “I wish you were here”.

Suddenly, he heard someone clearing their throat behind him and he spun around to see Grantaire emerging from Enjolras’s bedroom. “Good morning. Sorry to disturb you but I have to ask; were you talking to someone just now or were you listing off Pink Floyd titles into thin air?”

Combeferre rolled his eyes at Grantaire’s amused expression. “If I say it was the latter, can we leave it at that?”

“Sure” Grantaire shrugged. “So, is there any particular reason why you’re walking back and forth like a discontented zoo animal?”

“Uh, no. Not really, just have a lot of things on my mind.”

Grantaire raised an eyebrow.

“School work.” Combeferre elaborated, hoping that he would buy the lie.

“I know what you mean” Grantaire sighed in reply. “Enjolras is swamped as well. At least you two have the meeting tonight to take your minds off things.”

“What?”

“There’s an ABC meeting tonight, unless you’ve forgotten?”

Combeferre let out a forced laugh. “No, of course I haven’t.” But at the same time, he felt his heart fall. The truth was that he had forgotten. Completely. And more distressingly, for the first time ever.

Ever since he and Enjolras formed ABC, Combeferre had always given it the very highest priority. It wasn’t just important to him because of the causes they pursued or the opportunity it provided to elaborate and share his ideas and philosophies. It was first and foremost the place where all of his friends were.

After getting over the initial guilt about forgetting the meeting, and after having pushed down the anxiety about being completely unprepared for the first time in his life, Combeferre put his hope in Grantaire’s words. Perhaps going to the meeting would take his mind off things for a while and maybe even help him get some perspective.

The meeting was, as per usual, held at the Musain. Before stepping through the doors, Combeferre was hit by a sort of apprehension. He became acutely aware of the fact that for the past couple of weeks, he had been very distant and he knew that he’d neglected his friends.

He needn’t have worried though, as the moment he followed Enjolras inside, he was greeted with hugs and smiling faces. Combeferre was struck by the realization of just how much he had missed them all.

Before the meeting began, there was an opportunity for coffee and catching up, while Enjolras got his papers in order. Immediately after handing him a cup of black coffee, Bahorel leaned towards Combeferre with a sly smile that couldn’t mean anything but trouble. “So, Combeferre. What have you been up to lately?”

“Oh, you know. Not much.”

“Is that so? Because I’ve been speaking to our dear friends and it seems that you have been practically unreachable for the last few days.” He looked around the table with a conspiratorial grin. The others regarded them with amused expressions.

“Yeah, well I’ve been buried in schoolwork. This course is really intense.” Combeferre tried.

“Intense, huh?” Bahorel snickered.

“What?”

“Well” Joly stepped in. “We have reason to believe there might be something else behind your mysterious seclusion.”

Combeferre felt his cheeks heat up. Did they know? He swallowed and braced himself “Like what?”

Joly only gave him an exited grin and turned towards the rest of the people at the table. “What do you think, Bossuet?”

“Oh, definitely. It’s evident!”

Combeferre was starting to get a bit annoyed now. “What is?”

“I’d recognize that spaced out look and guilty blush anywhere.” Bossuet laughed.

“I appears, friends” Bahorel said triumphantly “that our dear Combeferre is in love.”

“What, no! I don’t know where you would get an idea like that!” Combeferre said with exasperation. He looked around at his friends to find some sort of support, but they all seemed to be in on this.

“Come on, Ferre.” Cosette said in a sweet tone, having apparently decided to join the inquisition. “We’re your friends; you don’t have to hide anything from us. Who’s the lucky guy?”

Combeferre took a deep breath and prepared to deny their assumptions. “Look, guys, I’m sorry if I’ve been distracted, but there’s nothing to tell, really. I’ve just had loads to do in school, that’s all.”

Combeferre could see his friends getting ready to object when he was, mercifully, rescued by Enjolras’s loud declaration that the meeting was about to begin. Combeferre let out a relieved sigh and went to take his place at Enjolras’s side. He didn’t, however, miss the wondering look on Jehan’s face as he passed him.

After the meeting, which went surprisingly well despite Combeferre's lack of preparations, it was declared that they would all relocate to the Corinth for drinks, with the exception of Joly who had to work the night shift. Combeferre lingered a while outside the Musain while the rest of his friends started walking towards the bar. Suddenly, he became aware of a huge concoction of wool in his periphery. He turned to see Jehan smiling at him from beneath a heap of his knitted attires.

“It’s freezing, isn’t it?” He said.

“Yeah, but I kind of like it.” Combeferre smiled back.

They stood together for a while in companionable silence, their breaths producing white specters in the cold winter air.

“They were right before, weren’t they?” Jehan said after a while.

Combeferre turned to him in question.

“When they said that you were in love, they were right.” He clarified. Then he gave Combeferre an earnest look “You don’t have to tell anyone something you don’t want to.”

Combeferre sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to…”

“Then there is someone?”

Combeferre regarded the petite boy next to him. Jehan looked back with a genuine smile. There was nothing in his warm brown eyes other than empathy and kindness. Of course, all of their friends had each other’s best interest at heart but most of them were rather inclined to gossip. When it came to Jehan, there was nothing that indicated any hidden motives or personal curiosity, just pure and unfeigned concern for his friend’s well being.

“There is someone.” Combeferre found himself saying. “Or, rather, there is and there isn’t and that’s the problem.”

Jehan didn’t press on, only remained at his side and waited for him to continue at his own will. It was easy to see why people tended to open up the little poet. Simply being in his presence made Combeferre feel comfortable and safe. “I… I’m not sure how much I can tell you” he began.

“Combeferre” Jehan said, linking his arm with Combeferre and moving closer to his side. “You don’t have to tell me anything but if you want to talk, I’m here for you. And you know that anything you say will stay between us.”

Combeferre could feel his resolve beginning to break. It would be so good to talk to someone. A few snowflakes fell on his nose and Jehan reached out a fluffy, white mitten to gently brush them away. Combeferre looked back at his friend and then he began to talk.

He told Jehan everything. Well, the pg-rated version anyway. He explained that what had started out as scientific curiosity had now led to him be hopelessly in love with a dead boy he’d never even seen.

After Combeferre had finished his story he swallowed hard. A big lump had built up in his throat since he began and now he didn’t even dare look at Jehan to gage his reaction. In the best case scenario he’d only be met by pity. In the worst case, he would be shipped off to a mental institution to be treated for his schizophrenia. He really hoped it wouldn’t come to that. After all, Jehan did delve into the occult on a regular basis. Which, on the other hand, may prompt him to give Combeferre a lecture. He finally plucked up the courage to look over at Jehan, preparing himself for at least a serious berating for misuse of the Ouija board.

Instead, he found Jehan bouncing on his feet with a mischievous grin on his face and a sparkling excitement in his eyes. “Can I meet him?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter cause shit is going down!  
> Actually a bit nervous about posting this one and yeah, comments are always welcome ;).

Combeferre and Jehan sent texts to their friends, excusing themselves before making their way back to Combeferre’s apartment. A mix of anticipation and nervousness filled Combeferre as they ascended the stairs. He had never even imagined introducing Fey to anyone. Luckily, Jehan’s steady positive presence helped still his nerves.

The calmness would soon evaporate, however, as Jehan’s entire demeanor changed the moment they stepped over the threshold. He remained in the living room while Combeferre went to get his laptop. When he returned, Jehan seemed frozen to the spot, looking around the room with wide eyes and a vigilant expression.

“Jehan? What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t know.” He gave Combeferre a concerned look. “I really don’t know, Ferre. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. The entire atmosphere in here is just… I can’t even explain it but it doesn’t feel right.”

Combeferre was immediately overcome with a sense of dread. “Do you think it has to do with Fey?”

“Sometimes when a ghost has established themselves in a home I can sort or feel it, you know. But it’s never like this. This is very… unsettling.” There was a deep frown on Jehan’s face that Combeferre couldn’t recall ever having seen in his friend. Which didn’t help him feel any less anxious.

“So, what do you think we should do? Do you want to talk to him?”

Jehan nodded and Combeferre opened the laptop, but not without a little apprehension. He called for Fey like he usually did and waited for a reply to appear on the screen. Jehan stood behind him, regarding the computer. After a few minutes and several calls, the document was still empty. There was no sign of Fey anywhere.

“I… I don’t understand.” Combeferre said. “He usually answers me right away.”

“Combeferre” Jehan said with a serious tone of voice. “Do you still have the Ouija board?”

Combeferre was taken a little by surprise. He hadn’t thought about the Ouija board in weeks. After he’d struck up his computer based communication with Fey, he’d put the board away in the bottom of a drawer.

“Uhm, yeah, I still have it but we shouldn’t have to use it. I promise you, he can write on the laptop just fine. I can show you some old documents if you want.”

“Listen, it’s not that I don’t believe you but like I said, there is something not quite right going on here. I think he feels threatened by me.”

Combeferre frowned. That didn’t sound like the welcoming and outgoing ghost he knew. Sensing his hesitance, Jehan took hold of Combeferre's hands and looked into his eyes with a firm determination. “Listen, Ferre, I’m going to tell you something that I don’t usually talk about with anyone in ABC. I mean, you all know that I do séances and stuff sometimes but none of you are really involved in that world, are you?”

Combeferre could only shake his head as he felt more and more uneasy about what was happening.

“The thing is that I’m probably more involved in the occult than you all think. And I have contacts on the other side.” Jehan continued.

“Contacts?”

"Yeah, like spirit guides, I guess you could call it. I can communicate with them and they help me and provide me with knowledge from the other realm of existence.”

“Okay” Combeferre said, a bit anxious and uncertain of where this was going. “What does that have to do with me?”

“If we use the Ouija board, I can ask my contacts for assistance and they will help us figure out just exactly what is going on here. Would you go get the board, please?”

Combeferre felt very hesitant but he complied with Jehan’s wishes. As he went to dig out the board he found himself wondering if telling Jehan had in fact been a very bad idea. Dysfunctional as the relationship with Fey might have been, as long as it had just been the two of them, it had been good. Now, he feared that there might be a threat to that relationship and he didn't like it one bit.

They sat down in the living room; Combeferre turned off the lights as Jehan lit candles and prepared the séance. A terrible foreboding filled Combeferre as he sat down on the floor.

“I’m sure it’s going to be fine.” Jehan said, sensing his discomfort. However, the deep crease between his eyebrows suggested otherwise and the tone of his voice was anything but convincing.

As Jehan spoke the words to summon the spirit, Combeferre could swear he felt the temperature in the room suddenly plummet. Before long, the planchette started to move. But it didn’t go to Hello or spell out any words. Instead it moved in fast, fitful movements in all different directions and Combeferre found it difficult to keep his fingers in place.

“Fey?” he said, his voice sounding much more frightened than he'd wanted it to. “If this is you, can you please stop? We just want to talk to you. Jehan is a friend, no one's going to hurt you.”

To his surprise, the planchette stilled its movements but it didn’t try to spell out anything. Combeferre looked over at Jehan. He had his eyes closed and appeared to be in deep concentration. As Combeferre regarded him he could see his lips moving slightly, as if he was speaking to someone.

“Jehan?”

The other boy looked up at him, a very unsettling look in his dark eyes and a distraught expression that sent shivers up Combeferre's spine. “Combeferre” he said, sounding more grave than Combeferre had ever heard. “I don't quite know how to tell you this. I don’t want to alarm you but… Something is very, very wrong here.”

Combeferre felt his heart speed up. “What do you mean?”

“The thing is. This is not an ordinary ghost, if it even is a ghost. I don’t know what it could be, I have never encountered anything like it before. And my contacts on the other side don’t know either.” Jehan bit his lips as he prepared himself to continue. “I’ve never felt them be so upset before.”

“Upset?”

“They’re afraid, Ferre. My spirit contacts who are, well, dead. They're terrified of this thing you have in your home.”

“Stop it!” Combeferre exclaimed. He couldn’t bear this any longer. He refused to hear that Fey was some sort of demonic being who had fooled him for some sinister purpose. He wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Jehan leaned over the board and put his hands on Combeferre’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Ferre. I didn’t mean to upset you, I’m just telling you what I know. Listen, we’ll get to the bottom of this the conventional way, yeah?”

Combeferre wanted to laugh at that “The conventional way? Hah, is there anything conventional about all this?”

Jehan smiled reassuringly at him. “I meant that we should just ask Fey.”

“Oh.”

They resumed their positions and placed their hands back on the planchette. “Spirit, we wish you no harm, we just want to talk to you.” Jehan began. “Can you tell us your name?”

Slowly, the planchette moved.

F E Y

“Hi” Combeferre whispered, a small smile forming on his lips despite his worry.

“What are you doing here, Fey?” Jehan asked.

The planchette stood still.

“Okay, Ferre, I’m going to do something now that might be a little scary. But we need to figure this out so just trust me, okay?”

Combeferre felt a trepidation rise inside him but he couldn’t do much else than nod and swallow hard.

Jehan took a deep breath before he spoke. “How did you die?”

Combeferre gasped. That was the last rule and the only one he hadn’t broken. Suddenly, the planchette began to spin in circles, faster and faster.

“Tell us how you died!” Jehan repeated.

The planchette stopped and suddenly, all the candles went out and all the doors to the living room slammed shut with a loud bang.

“Jehan!”

“Shit! Fuck, are you all right, Combeferre?”

“Yeah I’m… I’m okay. Damn it, Jehan, I don’t like this.”

They stayed silent for a while as they tried to calm themselves down. Then Jehan relit the candles.

“Okay. I’m going to try a different approach. I know this is hard for you but as you can see, something is not right here. We need to do this for your sake, Combeferre. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Combeferre shook his head. He was sure that Fey would never do anything to deliberately hurt him. He inhaled and braced himself for what was to come.

“Spirit, tell us why you are in this home.”

The piece of wood didn’t move an inch under their fingers.

“I demand you tell us right now why you are in this home!” Jehan spoke, with a loud powerful tone that took Combeferre by surprise. It was a rare occurrence, but a known fact, that Jehan’s soft, lyrical voice suddenly could turn deep and manly. Even Combeferre felt a bit intimidated as he made his commands.

Apparently, so did the ghost, because after he had spoken, the planchette carefully started to make its way between the letters. Both Combeferre and Jehan held their breath in anticipation as they waited to see what the answer would be.

J O L Y

The participants exchanged concerned looks.

“What is your connection to Joly?” Jehan continued, his voice still firm and unwavering.

H O S P I T A L

“No!” Combeferre withdrew his fingers in shock. He stared wildly at Jehan. “You don’t think..?”

“I do.” Jehan answered. “I mean, it makes sense. If he was one of Joly’s patients who passed away, he could have attached himself to Joly and then followed him here when you held the first séance.”

Combeferre’s head was spinning. He didn’t want to think of Fey as some troubled spirit who might have died a horrible death in hospital bed. He certainly didn’t want to think of the fact that Joly had been involved, had watched him die. Combeferre cringed let out an uncontrolled sob.

Jehan went over to him and wrapped his arms around his friend. “Look, it’s going to be okay. I don’t know exactly what’s going on here but I think it’s really important that we get to the bottom of this. And now we know where to start! If we can find out what happened to him, we can help him. You want that, don’t you?”

Combeferre held on tightly to Jehan’s knitted sweater as he worked to calm himself down. Help him, what did that mean? Sure, he wanted to help Fey but he also didn’t want to lose him. This whole situation had turned into such a mess so quickly. “So, what do we do?” He finally asked when he’d composed himself enough.

“We call Joly.”

Combeferre's hands were shaking as he held the phone to his ear. He had no idea how he was supposed to explain all this to Joly and his nervousness only grew as the signals continued. Finally he hung up the phone. "Voicemail" he explained to Jehan.

Then he suddenly remembered. "Wait, isn't Joly working the night shift at the hospital tonight?"

"You're right." Jehan answered. He stood in quiet contemplation for a while, twisting his hair trough his fingers. Then he looked up at Combeferre with a determined appearance. "We should go to the hospital."

Combeferre stared back at his friend. "Are you insane, it's past eleven at night, we can't just drop by for a visit."

"I know it's hard for you but I really feel like this is an urgent matter!"

He was right of course, so much had changed during the past few hours and Combeferre felt like it was all happening too fast for him to process. That being said, twenty minutes later, Combeferre found himself in a taxi set for the hospital where Joly was interning.

When they arrived at the parking lot in the middle of the cold December night, the place seemed unusually quiet, almost to the point of being deserted. Combeferre was overcome by an eerie sense of dread as they approached the large, dark concrete building. During the cab ride, Jehan had somehow managed to get a hold of Joly who met them at a staff entrance and quickly led them inside and up to his ward.

"So" he asked, once they were alone in the corridor outside the on call room. "To what do I owe this unorthodox visit?"

Combeferre had barely spoken a word to Joly since they arrived and once confronted, he wasn't even sure where to begin. Luckily, Jehan sensed his discomfort and filled in for him.

"Listen, Joly, I'm sorry about disturbing you at work and all but a situation has arisen. And we could really use your help to solve it. You know we'd never ask unless we were completely serious and the matter was of some importance."

"Of course." Joly answered, his demeanor having shifted from amused to professional. "What's going on?"

Jehan turned and looked up at Combeferre, who ran his hands through his hair. He really didn't want to repeat the whole story again. And more than that, he was terrified of the ramifications that telling Joly might have.

After trying, and failing, to even begin explaining their presence at the hospital, Jehan took pity on him. "Joly, do you remember about three weeks ago when you borrowed my Ouija board to hold a séance at Ferre's place?"

"Sure" Joly answered, looking like it was the last thing he'd expected to hear. Which, in all fairness, it probably was.

Once Jehan had filled him in, Joly stood staring between the two of them for long while, as if he was trying to discern whether or not this was part of some elaborate practical joke. "Combeferre" he asked at last. "Is this true?"

"Yeah" Combeferre admitted, staring guiltily at the floor.

"So, what do you want me to do then?"

Jehan answered the question, seeming to have realized that Combeferre was unable to do so.

"We need to know if you had a patient that passed away recently that went by the name of Fey?"

Combeferre held his breath. After a while, Joly shook his head. "No, I've never heard of anyone by that name. Sorry."

"Something similar, then?" Jehan asked.

Joly contemplated for a while. "I don't think so. The closest name I can think of is a Flynn. Flynn Anderson, passed away about two months ago."

Combeferre finally addressed Joly. "What did he look like?"

"Uhm, he was average height, about 30 years old, kind of stocky, blond. A construction worker I think, he was injured in a work related accident."

"No." Combeferre said with vigor. "No, that's not him! Fey is only 22. And he doesn't look like that."

Joly and Jehan both regarded Combeferre's bewildered look as he continued. "Fey is tall and he's got brown hair. Dark brown, curly hair." Even if it contradicted his emotions, a smile grew on his lips as he described his ghostly acquaintance. "He has green eyes... and freckles."

The trio stood silent in the sterile hospital corridor, Combeferre with a sad smile still lingering on his lips. Then suddenly, Joly spoke up.

"Okay, I don't want to freak you guys out but... there is actually one patient that matches that description precisely."

Combeferre felt his heart speeding up. God, he wasn't anywhere near ready to hear this.

"What was his name?" Jehan asked.

"M. de Courfeyrac."

"Courfey..." Combeferre gasped. "Shit! That has to be him!"

In an instant, Jehan was by his side, putting a supportive arm around his shoulder. Combeferre closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself before asking the question that needed to be asked. "What happened to him, Joly? How did he die?"

Joly regarded them with an anxious, conflicted look. "That's just it." He said. "He's not dead."


	9. Chapter 9

Combeferre was sure the entire world had blinked out of existence for at least a few seconds. He felt like he existed in a void in which there was nothing but him and his building panic. When he resurfaced in the empty, unwelcoming hospital corridor, his head was spinning and his heart seemed to either have stopped or started beating too fast for him to feel it.

He became aware of Jehan's voice interrogating Joly and demanding to know what the hell he meant. Combeferre struggled to regain enough of his conscious abilities to be able to focus on Joly's reply.

"He came in a little over three weeks ago. He'd been in a car accident and there were a lot of injuries, internal bleeding." Joly continued to explain about the challenging surgery and how the doctors had managed to repair the damage. "During the surgery, he was put in medically induced coma. The wounds and the internal damages have been healing up nicely, but... unfortunately; he hasn't shown any signs of waking up from the coma. I'm really sorry, Combeferre."

Combeferre stood dumb struck while his two friends regarded him with deeply concerned faces. He couldn't seem to get his thoughts straight as he tried to come to terms with the implications of what Joly had just said. After a little while, Jehan tentatively asked: "Ferre, are you okay? Do you understand what this means?"

"Yes" Combeferre exclaimed, suddenly brought out of his stupor and filled with a near manic excitation. "It means that he's alive! Joly, where is he? I have to see him right now!"

Joly twisted, seeming more than a little hesitant as he exchanged a concerned look with Jehan. "Well, he's in a room at the end of the next corridor but I'm not sure if going there is a good idea, Ferre. You guys shouldn't be here at all and I could really get in trouble for letting you into a patient’s room in the middle of the night. Maybe it's better if you let this all sink in for a while and come back during visiting hours tomorrow."

"What, are you kidding?"

"Joly's right." Jehan agreed. "Perhaps you should reflect on this before doing anything rash. I mean, you don't even know for sure that it's him."

"Exactly! And there's only one way to find out." Combeferre looked at both of his friends, trying to convey the significance of the situation through the desperation in his eyes.

"Ah, fuck it!" Joly swore, his resolve breaking. "I just have to check that the coast is clear. I'm the only intern in this ward right now, but the nurses are still making rounds." Before he went, he regarded Combeferre with an indecisive look, opening his mouth as if to speak before closing it again and turning the corner.

Combeferre and Jehan stood in silence as they waited for Joly to return. Once he did, he drew them both near as he explained the situation. "I think it's safe to go in right now but I'm not completely sure where the nurses are so we have to be quick and quiet." Then he put his hand on Combeferre's shoulder. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay, let's go."

"Wait!" Suddenly Joly's steps were halted as Jehan grabbed his arm. "Joly, is there anything else we should know about before we go in?"

Joly looked back and forward between his two friends. "Well" He admitted at last "There is one thing, but I think we should make sure that it's actually him first."

In any other situation, Combeferre would have used reason and patience to draw the information from Joly but right now, he couldn't care less. All he could focus on was getting to Fey as quickly as possible.

Jehan nodded and Joly put his finger against his mouth as he gestured for them to follow. The three friends hurried down the empty corridor, the fluorescent lights casting everything in a bleak, ominous glow. The doors to the patients’ rooms were all closed and there were no windows except at the very end of the corridor.

Once they reached room number 404, Joly stopped, grasping the handle and looking to Combeferre for a last sign of confirmation before opening the door and potentially changing his life forever. Combeferre took a deep breath and nodded.

As Combeferre entered the room, his first thought was how dark it was, the only light being that which flowed in from the corridor and the ones emanating from different machines. Jehan and Joly lingered back as Combeferre took a few careful steps towards the bed. But he wasn't even aware of them anymore. His mind was focused on one thing only. From the distance where he was, he could make out the shape of a person beneath the white sheets of the hospital bed.

Oh, God, he couldn't do this. What if it wasn't Fey? And even if this person did match the description, how could he know for sure? Combeferre closed his eyes as he took the last few steps up to the side of the bed.

He took a deep breath and suddenly, he felt a kind of calm surround him, all the jumbling thoughts in his mind seemed to quiet down. He opened his eyes and turned on the bedside lamp.

For a few seconds, Combeferre thought he was dreaming. But then he realized that he couldn't be. It was impossible for the vague concept of a person that he'd encountered in his dreams to ever be able to measure up to the boy he saw before him. Even his _brilliant mind_ , as Fey had put it, could never conjure up something so devastatingly beautiful.

And, God, was he beautiful! His hair was longer than Combeferre had imagined, falling down beneath his jaw line. The dark curls looked dull and matted against the white pillow. His skin was pale, without much variation to the tone. There was no heat in his cheeks. Still, Combeferre felt his heart skip a beat as he took note of the freckles scattered over a sharp nose. Combeferre hadn’t seen many comatose people before, but he thought that Fey looked peaceful. He just looked like he’d been sleeping for a very long time. His lips were colorless and slightly chapped but it didn’t take much effort to imagine them red and alive, talking and laughing.

It was like watching a beautiful painting that had been put away in an attic a little too long. Though the colors were matted, you could still see how exquisite it was through the dust and you could easily imagine its glory as soon as it was dusted off and restored to its original state.

The thought overtook Combeferre with an unexpected force and he felt sure he was going to cry. It was physically painful to stand so close to Fey, to actually look at him, and not be able to speak to him. Combeferre couldn’t help himself from reaching out and taking his hand. He let out a gasp and almost let go when he felt how heavy it was. It was warm but seemingly lifeless and unresponsive.

Jehan was by his side in a second. “It’s him, Jehan” Combeferre’s voice seemed to come from somewhere outside of himself. He turned to Joly. “It’s him, I know it is. What do we do now, when is he going to wake up?”

Joly bit his lip while moving his weight from foot to foot. He looked thoroughly distressed. “Well, the thing is, Combeferre. As I just told Jehan while you were… uhm…” Joly didn’t finish the sentence and instead turned his gaze to the ground, then to the machines, looking everywhere but at Combeferre.

“Joly, what is it, tell me!”

Joly turned and shifted some more before attempting to explain the situation. “Do you remember a few weeks back when we were at the Corinth and I told you that I’d had a shit day because I’d been forced to make long distance calls to the insufferable French relatives of a patient?”

“Yes”

“Well, that’s him. Those are his cousins that I’ve had to deal with for the past few weeks.”

Combeferre stood quiet, blinking into the dim room. His mind tried to put two and two together and glean what Joly was getting at. But the only thing he could think to say was: “He’s French?”

“What? Uhm, yeah I guess. Apparently he came over here with his mother when he was very young. But she passed away a few years ago and the closest relatives we could find were a bunch of different cousins in France.”

“Okay. But you said that they were horrible, insufferable? What does that mean?”

“Uhm” Joly was fidgeting again and seemed unable to meet Combeferre’s eye as he spoke. “Well, the thing is that there are quite a few of them and they all live in different parts of France. Some don’t live in France at all in fact and they’re not in very good contact with each other so I’ve had to basically work as some sort of coordinator and mediator and…”

“Joly!” Jehan’s strong voice interrupted Joly’s ramblings. “Just tell him.”

Joly took a deep breath and finally looked up at Combeferre with a frighteningly grave expression. “They’ve debated whether or not they should come over here and see him. But as of a few days ago they have come to a unanimous decision that they are going to let him go.”

“Let him go” Combeferre echoed the words as an icy fear ran up his spine.

“They’ve given their consent to take him off life support. We’re just filling out the final paperwork and then it’s scheduled to be carried out tomorrow.”

Combeferre felt all the air being knocked out of his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. Everything was black and he felt like he was falling. He was vaguely aware of Jehan speaking to him and putting his arms around his waist to keep him steady. Combeferre grabbed hold of his friend’s shoulders and by some miracle Jehan’s tiny frame managed to support him and keep him standing as he tried to stop hyperventilating.

Once he’d calmed himself down at least a bit from the initial shock, Combeferre looked over to where Joly was still standing by the door, looking both worried and guilty. “You can’t do this” Combeferre exclaimed. “Joly, this isn’t… You can’t kill him!”

“You really think this is up to me? I’m an intern, Combeferre; I have no say in this!”

“Okay, calm down! Both of you.” Jehan interjected. “I know this is an extremely exceptional situation and we’re all more or less in shock right now but yelling at each other isn’t going to help. Now, let’s try to assess the situation and work with what we’ve got.”

Combeferre kept a steady hold of Jehan’s shoulder. He was beyond grateful to have him there. He didn’t know what they would have done without his uncanny ability to stay focused in stressful situations.

“This is a mess” Joly sighed, running frustrated hands through his hair. “You have no idea how terrible his cousins are. And they’ve been wavering back and forth the entire time. Yelling and crying and expecting me to have all the answers. One of them even called me in the middle of the night. On my personal phone, I have no idea how they even got the number.”

“And now they’ve decided to kill him” Combeferre whispered, turning back to the boy in the bed. It didn’t seem possible, how could anyone give up on someone like that?

“Take him off life support, yes.” Joly answered sadly. “I’m not sure what his chances of waking up would have been but his injuries have healed remarkably well and he’s otherwise in good physical shape.” Joly made a frustrated noise. “God, if I had only known! Most of these French people have never even met him, some didn’t even know who he was. And to think that I’ve actually talked to him…”

Combeferre and Jehan both turned their focus to Joly, giving him a questioning look.

“Oh, on the Ouija board I mean!” Joly clarified. “For some reason he attached himself to me and followed me to Combeferre’s home, right?”

“Wait a minute!” Jehan exclaimed before Joly could continue. “That’s it!”

“What?” Combeferre and Joly asked in unison.

Jehan looked at them with exhilaration in his eyes. “The Ouija board. If we can make contact with Courfeyrac’s spirit, or coma spirit, whatever. If we can establish a connection here, we might be able to convince him to return to his body!”

Combeferre was instantly filled with a mix of excitement and hope. “Do you really think that would work?”

“It’s worth a try.” Jehan smiled.

“Yeah, there’s only one problem” Joly said, a skeptic tone to his voice. “We don’t exactly have time on our side. This ward will open up in a few hours and he’s scheduled to… you know.”

Combeferre shot Jehan a desperate look. Jehan just responded with the same assuring smile. Then he reached in to his shoulder bag and pulled out two large candles and the Ouija board that had spent the last few weeks in Combeferre’s bottom drawer.

“You are shitting me” Joly said, deadpan and with a disbelieving expression. “Do you just keep a Ouija board on you at all times in case you have to perform an emergency séance?”

Jehan just waved the comment away and looked at Combeferre in question. “Do you want to try this?”

Just as Combeferre opened his mouth to respond, the room was flooded with light as the door opened wide. All three of the men in the room turned towards the door and was met by the very shocked face of a nurse.

“Oh, I didn’t know…” She started, apologetically. But as she looked around the room and regarded the three of them, her expression grew stern and her eyes narrowed in scrutiny behind her winged glasses. “Dr. Joly” she addressed him, her tone suddenly very harsh. The barely five foot tall woman with a considerable line of grey roots in her otherwise black hair suddenly seemed terrifying. “Would you care to explain to me what in the name of the Lord is going on here? Who are these people?”

Combeferre cast a worried glance at Jehan who had luckily managed to hide the candles and the board behind his back and slipped them back in his bag.

“Errhm…” Joly started and Combeferre could see his face was flushed red. Then, suddenly, he seemed to collect himself “Eh, these are M. de Courfeyrac’s cousins from France.” He looked over at his friends with a desperate look that screamed _play along!_

“Oh” the nurse said, turning towards Jehan and Combeferre, examining them with steely eyes. Combeferre tried to produce a wobbly smile as he thought of what they must look like. He held his breath as the nurse's eyes moved from the dark haired boy in the bed to Combeferre, all tall and lanky and sandy blonde hair and finally to Jehan with his tiny frame, dark complexion and long, black dreadlocks. The nurse pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

“Bonsoir, infirmière. Je espère que nous ne sommes pas trop grand d'un inconvénient.” Jehan said, accompanying the phrase with his most charming smile. Combeferre hoped that the nurse didn’t know enough French to hear how bad it sounded.

She only gave Jehan a suspicious look before turning to Joly. “I thought that they’d decided not to come over here. You do know that he’s being taken off life support as soon as the papers come through tomorrow?” She didn’t even attempt to lower her voice as she spoke.

“Yes, of course” Joly answered. “But these two gentlemen realized that they couldn’t let their dear cousin go without saying goodbye. And apparently there was a good price on a last minute flight, so they’ve come here to say farewell. I thought it was all right to stretch the rules a bit and let them in, considering the circumstances. They have just been travelling for more than 12 hours to get here in time, after all.”

Combeferre was impressed by how confident and professional Joly suddenly sounded. 

“So, nurse Hendricks” he continued. “If you’re done here I’m sure M. de Courfeyrac’s cousins would appreciate some time alone with him. I’ve got the situation under control.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I don't know much about hospitals or comas other than what I have personally experienced. I'm just writing from that and apologize for anything illogical or inconsistent. (well it is a story about ghosts so that much for logic anyway...)


	10. Chapter 10

As soon as the nurse left the room, it was Joly’s turn to hyperventilate. His professional composure disappeared the moment the door closed and he had to grab a chair not to double over.

“Oh my God! Shit, shit, shit! What have I done? There is no way in hell that she bought any of that!”

Combeferre went over to his friend and tried to calm him down. “Hey, Joly, listen. You were incredible. I’m sure she believed it.” Combeferre’s voice was wavering and he wasn’t quite sure who he was trying to convince. “She left, right?”

“Yeah, she left!” Jolt looked up at him with a panic stricken gaze. “She probably went to get the doctors. Or even security, oh God!”

“Okay, all the more reason to hurry this up!” They heard Jehan’s voice from behind them. When they turned in his direction, he had once again produced the candles and the Ouija board from his bag.

“What?” Joly exclaimed. “You can’t be serious! Do you have any idea what would happen if they caught us having a fucking séance in here? In a patient’s room, in the middle of the night?” Joly shook his head in disbelief. “I wouldn’t just lose my internship; I’d probably be kicked out of med school and never be allowed to practice any form of medicine ever. This is my entire life we’re talking about, everything I’ve worked for. Not to mention legal repercussion, oh God, we could all go to jail!”

Combeferre felt something turn in his stomach, if it was anger or just resolution he wasn’t sure, but he knew that it was up to him to talk sense into Joly. He grabbed hold of both of the other man’s shoulders, keeping him upright so that he could look into his eyes.

“Listen, Joly. I know you’re panicking right now. And I know how hard you’ve worked to become a doctor and how much it means to you. But this is _not_ your life we’re talking about.” Combeferre paused and gestured towards the bed. “It’s his life. Being a doctor is your career, not you life. And I know why you strive to become a doctor as well. Because you are a good man, Joly. And you want to save people’s lives. Please, Joly, save his. If not for me or for him, then do it for yourself. You’ll never forgive yourself if he dies and you never gave him a chance. Give him a chance to live, Joly. Please.”

Joly stared at Combeferre and when he finally drew a shaky breath, Combeferre could see that there were tears in his eyes. “Okay.” He whispered and gave Combeferre a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“Are you done?” Jehan asked impatiently. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but we’re kind of on a tight schedule here.”

Joly backed away and nodded. “All right, if Nurse Hendricks, against all odds, did believe us, she still won’t be gone for long. She’s doing rounds so…”

“How long have we got?” Jehan asked from the floor, where he was already setting up the board and the candles.

“20 minutes, max.” Joly answered. “I’ll go stand guard at the door. You really need to hurry this up. If I knock on the door, you pack the board up and act like his fucking French cousins, okay?”

“Got it!” Combeferre gave Joly a pat on the shoulder as he left the room.

Once the door had closed behind him, Combeferre went over to Courfeyrac. He looked at the sleeping man whom he had never truly met, but felt like he’d known forever. He pressed his hand and prayed to anything that might listen that this would work. Then he managed to tear himself away from the bed and went to join Jehan on the floor.

Jehan didn’t waste any time and started the summoning spell as soon as Combeferre’s fingers touched the planchette. Combeferre feared for a moment that it would be useless and that Fey’s spirit would still be in his apartment. But Jehan was using his commandeering voice again as he asked specifically for Courfeyrac to make himself known.

It only took a few seconds before the planchette began to move. Something felt different though and it didn’t even go to Hello. Instead it started moving with fast, jerky movements between the letters.

W H E R E – A M – I ?

“Spirit, we need you to identify yourself.” Jehan said.

F E R R E – W H A T S – H A P P E N I N G?

“It’s him, Jehan” Combeferre gasped.

“Okay. It’s up to you now Combeferre.”

“Right, how does it work? What do I do?”

Jehan regarded him with dark eyes that seemed much older than the man they belonged to. “I wish I could tell you that but I honestly have no idea.” He clenched his jaw and shook his head slightly. “You’re the one who knows him; just try anything you can think of. But remember that we don’t have a lot of time.”

Combeferre’s thoughts were spinning. He would have given anything for at least some guidelines. He didn’t even know where to start. All he knew was that Fey was scared and he himself was terrified of failing. And at any second someone could burst through the door and it would all be over. Fey would die.

He swallowed and prepared to meet the biggest challenge in his life and do the best he could to save the boy he cared so much about. He only hoped that his best would be enough.

“Fey, listen to me. We’re at a hospital. Can you see the room?”

Y E S – W H Y?

“Look at the bed. Do you know who that is?”

The planchette stopped and Combeferre felt the temperature in the room drop significantly. Jehan drew his breath.

“Fey” he continued. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

The planchette started spinning in circles.

“Calm down, please. I need you to listen to me because we haven’t got much time. You’re not a ghost. You’re not dead. But then, you knew that didn’t you? That’s why you never talked about your life or wanted to say how you died.” The realization only hit Combeferre as he spoke. Pieces of the puzzle seemed to come together and suddenly Combeferre was reminded of all the times when Fey had avoided the topic or changed the conversation.

The planchette changed directions but didn’t make any sign of stopping or spelling out any words.

“Fey, please!” Combeferre tried to keep the despair out of his voice. “I know this is scary but I need you to focus. You’re in a coma. You were in a car accident and body is here but it’s healed up just fine. I don’t know why you’re in the state that you are right now but I need you to return to your body. I need you to wake up. Please.” His voice broke on the last word and Jehan shot him a sympathetic look.

Suddenly, the spinning paused and the entire room seemed quiet, like time had stopped. Combeferre held his breath. Was this it? He looked over to the bed, hoping for a sign. “Fey?” he whispered.

The planchette remained where it was and nothing seemed to have changed. Jehan glanced down at his watch. “Ten minutes.”

Combeferre made a frustrated noise and took his hand off of the piece of wood. He stood up and went over to the bed. Fey lay unmoving and peaceful as ever. Combeferre felt a lump form in his throat and his eyes fill up with tears. He looked down at the beautiful boy and reached out to touch him.

“It’s moving!” Jehan exclaimed from behind him. Combeferre didn’t take his eyes of Fey.

“He’s spelling out something.” Jehan said. “It says; _I can’t. Help._ ”

Combeferre felt the desperation rise inside him. “Yes you can!” he said, tears finally spilling over and dropping down on Fey’s cheeks as he leaned over him. He put his hand in Fey’s hair, running his fingers through the curls. “Please” he said, between sobs. “Please. I never thought that I would see you in this lifetime but now that I do, God, you’re so much more than I could have ever dreamed of. Courfeyrac. Remember everything we talked about. Everything we said we wanted to do. We can have all that now if you just wake up. Please, wake up.”

There was still no sign of movement and Jehan stayed quiet. Combeferre didn’t know what else he could do and he felt closer to hysteria each second. He didn’t care about morality anymore. He didn’t care that this was the comatose body of a man he’d never met. He sat down on the side of the bed, leaned down and kissed Fey on the cheek. Then he rested their foreheads together, his tears wetting both of their faces. “Fey” He whispered. “I am begging you, find a way back. I know we’ve never really met but… I’m in love with you. If you don’t wake up now I will never see you again. Come back to me, Fey. Please. Come back to me.”

“Combeferre!” Jehan’s voice was startled as he cried out and Combeferre snapped his head around.

The candles had been blown out and were now leaving trails of smoke up through the air. Then, suddenly, the bedside lamp switched off and the room was cast in darkness. Combeferre stood up and Jehan quickly shoved the board and the candles in his bag and hurried to stand by Combeferre’s side. “What’s happening?” he asked?

Before Combeferre could answer, the room was lit up as the fluorescent lights in the ceiling turned on. And then off. Then all the lights in the room started blinking in an erratic pattern. Suddenly, the door flew open and Joly stuck his face in the room. Combeferre and Jehan turned towards him.

“What the hell is going on?” Joly asked in a hysterical tone. “The lights are going crazy in the entire ward!”

The corridor looked like something out of a horror film as it alternated between white light and complete darkness. Combeferre turned his attention back to Fey just as several machines started beeping. The blinking suddenly stopped and barely a second later, Joly’s pager gave off a shrill tone.

“What’s happening?” Combeferre asked in panic. “Joly, what’s happening to him?”

Joly ran up to the bed as the machines, for all Combeferre knew, seemed to go mad. Joly turned around and even through his frenzy, Combeferre could see that he had his professional face back on. “You need to leave, right now.” He said.

“No!” Combeferre protested and tried get to Fey’s side again. But he was restrained by surprisingly strong arms.

“Jehan, get him out of here!” Joly demanded.

Combeferre had no idea how Jehan could possibly be so strong but the fact remained that he had no way to detach himself as he was pulled out of the room. Despite his protests, Combeferre was dragged down the corridor. Just before they turned the corner, he looked back to see several doctors and nurses run into Fey’s room.


	11. Chapter 11

The nail on the wall was crooked. Combeferre had been staring at that same nail on that same wall for hours now. He wondered if it had ever served a purpose. If it had once held a clock, so that the people in the waiting room could count the hours as they sat there in silence. Or perhaps it had once bore one of those hideous hospital paintings that only consisted of abstract shapes in different colors and which never seemed to fulfill their purpose of brightening up the dull, grey walls.

Combeferre had no idea how many hours he’d spent in the waiting room. He was vaguely aware of the fact that the sun had risen and that it was now beginning to set again. Jehan had left around noon, after several admirable attempts to take Combeferre home. Since then he’d been lying on the poorly stuffed bench in the waiting room, not caring that he took up enough seats for four people. It wasn’t like there were many visitors to this particular ward anyway.

A few people had come and gone, Combeferre hadn’t even acknowledged them. A little girl had asked him if his daddy was sick as well and given him a piece of her chocolate bar. That was all he had eaten all day. On the table next to him lay a sandwich, wrapped in plastic. Joly had checked on him a few times during the day and made him promise to eat the sandwich before his shift was over and he had to go home.

Joly had also tried to convince Combeferre to leave but had soon realized that it was useless. Combeferre didn’t want to move. He didn’t see the point in going home. Not that there was much point in him staying at the hospital either.

Combeferre kept his eyes on the nail in the wall as he heard footsteps approaching. He didn’t care to lift his head until he suddenly heard a very familiar voice. “Combeferre?”

He finally tore his eyes away from the wall and was met by the sight of his best friend standing in the middle of the waiting room, holding a huge bouquet of flowers with a very confused expression on his face.

Combeferre sat up. “Enjolras?” He wondered who had sent him here and why he’d thought it was a good idea to bring Combeferre flowers. “What are you doing here?”

Enjolras’s confusion only seemed to grow. “I could ask you the same question. Why are you… you’re not hurt are you?”

“No, I’m fine. Who sent you here? Was it Joly or Jehan?”

“No one” Enjolras answered, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows. “I haven’t spoken to any of them today and I spent the night at Grantaire’s so I haven’t been home either. I had no idea you’d be here.”

“Oh” Combeferre said and now it was his turn to look confused. “Why are you here then?”

Enjolras sat down on the bench next to Combeferre and placed the ridiculously large bouquet beside him. “There’s this guy in my class who was in a car accident a few weeks ago. He was in a coma but today we found out that he’s woken up. So everyone in the class pitched in for some flowers and I volunteered to bring them here.”

Combeferre stared at Enjolras. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. Courfeyrac was in Enjolras’s class. Courfeyrac knew Enjolras from law school. Combeferre shook his head in disbelief and judging from the look of concern that settled on Enjolras’s face, he must have looked absolutely deranged.

“Combeferre, are you alright? Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You knew him from school.” Combeferre said with a bitter laugh. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me about this?”

“Uhm, I’m sure I mentioned it.” Enjolras started. “Wait, do you know Courfeyrac? Is that why you’re here?”

Combeferre ran his hands through his hair. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Suddenly, one hand was pulled from his hair as Enjolras reached for it and pressed it hard. “Look at me, Ferre” he said, voice deadly serious. Combeferre turned to face his friend. There was a fierce determination on Enjolras’s face. The look in his eyes was one that usually only emerged when he was making a particularly passionate speech.

“There is nothing, you hear me, nothing that you could say that I wouldn’t believe. If you don’t feel like you can tell me anything, then I’ve failed you as a friend.”

Combeferre drew a sharp breath and felt his eyes fill with tears. “Don’t say that.” He whispered. “You haven’t failed.”

“Then tell me what’s going on, Ferre. Please.”

Combeferre swallowed back his tears and looked at Enjolras. His expression showed nothing but genuine worry and compassion. Combeferre bit his lip. Enjolras had found him despairing in a hospital waiting room; this wasn’t something he could cover up with a white lie. He didn’t really have a choice now but to tell him. Still, he couldn’t predict how Enjolras would react and a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach as he drew a deep breath and finally began to talk.

Combeferre told the whole story in one go in a monotone voice, barely stopping for breath. It was the only way he could manage to get to the end without breaking down. He told Enjolras what had happened during the night and stopped at the point where Joly had told him that Courfeyrac was awake.

Once he’d finished the story he stared down at the grey floor. Enjolras was quiet beside him but he was still clutching Combeferre’s hand.

It felt like ages before he spoke and during that time Combeferre had plenty of opportunity to anticipate the worst. After all, he had just admitted to breaking his promise, to going behind Enjolras’s back and lying to him for weeks. When Enjolras opened his mouth, Combeferre was prepared for the telling off of a lifetime. Or worse, maybe Enjolras would just get up and leave. Therefore, he was completely caught off guard when Enjolras finally spoke.

“I am so sorry, Combeferre!” There was a sadness in Enjolras’s voice. It almost sounded painful. “God, I’m so sorry that you’ve had to go through this on your own.”

Combeferre looked up at his friend and was immediately pulled into a tight hug.

“Shit, I wish you could have told me” Enjolras whispered into his hair. Then he pulled back and looked Combeferre in the eye. “But I understand why you didn’t. I didn’t exactly make it easy for you with what I said. I practically forbade you from talking to him.”

Combeferre didn’t quite know how to respond. “It’s not your fault, Enjolras. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Enjolras shook his head. “I should have known that something was going on though. I’ve been so caught up with Grantaire and everything that I didn’t even realize that I’ve been neglecting you.”

“Hey, you haven’t. I’m really happy for you and Grantaire and that doesn’t change anything between us.”

Enjolras still didn’t look completely convinced. “I just wish I had been there for you when you needed me. You know that you’ll always be the most important person in my life, Ferre.”

Combeferre smiled, feeling a flood of relief that Enjolras wasn’t angry at him. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to mention that in my speech on your wedding day.”

Enjolras smiled back, seeming to have relaxed a bit as well. “So, that ghost we talked to was really Courfeyrac? That’s… insane.”

“I know.”

“But if he woke up during the night” Enjolras said. “What have you been doing here all day? It’s past five o’clock. Haven’t you been to see him yet?”

Combeferre swallowed, his words caught in his throat. He hadn’t been able to finish the story before and he didn’t know how he was supposed to now. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “I have.”

“You have? How is he, what did he say?”

Combeferre screwed his eyes shut and tried to hold back the tears. “He… he didn’t recognize me.” A sob escaped Combeferre’s lips and Enjolras quickly folded his arms around him. Caught in Enjolras’s embrace, it was impossible to keep the tears from welling over. “He had no idea who I was” Combeferre snivelled as Enjolras rubbed circles over his back, trying to sooth him.

They sat like that for a long while, Combeferre clinging to his friend until the tears had dried out. When they pulled apart, Combeferre did feel marginally better.

“So, what do you want to do now?” Enjolras asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think there’s anything I can do. I mean, it’s not like I can go in and say: Hi, you’ve never met me but I fell in love with your ghost while you were in a coma.”

“Yeah, that’s probably not advisable **.** Maybe he just needs some time. I mean, the guy just woke up from a three week long coma, he’s bound to be a little disoriented and confused. If you see him again, he might remember you.”

“I don’t know” Combeferre sighed. “I’m not sure if I can manage to go back in there again.”

“What if I come with you? I have to deliver these flowers anyway, why don’t you join me? And who knows, he might not recognize me either.”

Combeferre thought over the offer for a while. It had been excruciatingly painful to enter Courfeyrac’s room full of hope and joy and have that completely shattered as the man only regarded him like a stranger. Still, Combeferre couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted to see him again. To look at the person he’d thought was dead and see him breathing and looking back with his big, green eyes.

“Okay” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who’s left kudos and comments! From comparing the plot to peanut butter to complementing my writing, it’s all really lovely. And it truly helps with the progress, so thank you!


	12. Chapter 12

As they stood outside the now open door to room 404, Combeferre thought about the decisions he'd made during the past couple of weeks which had brought him to this point. He'd done things that seemed to him to be so out of character. He had lied and kept secrets, he’d neglected both his friends and his studies. He was pretty sure he’d broken some kind of law the previous night. No matter how much he’d rationalized his actions to himself in the comfort of his own concealment, standing there now with his secrets revealed; he couldn’t suppress the feeling that the experience had changed him forever.

The Combeferre that, with mild excitement, had sat down with his friends in front of a Ouija board three weeks ago was not the same person who now stood outside a hospital room, wondering if the man he loved would know who he was or not.

“You ready?” Enjolras asked, standing by his side with the bouquet in his hands.

Combeferre shook his head. “Not in the slightest.” Then he took a steadying breath. No matter what the outcome of this visit would be, there was one thing that he was absolutely certain of. Regardless of the consequences that his behavior might have in the long run, he wouldn’t change his actions for anything. All the choices he'd made, however questionable, had ultimately led to the fact that Courfeyrac was alive. And that was worth everything.

He turned to Enjolras with a grim expression. “Let’s do this.”

Enjolras gave Combeferre’s shoulder a squeeze and stepped into the room. Combeferre shook his head, gave a despondent sigh and followed. The sight he was met with made him stop dead in his tracks by the door. Courfeyrac was sitting up in the bed, supported by several pillows. He smiled like he’d been waiting for them to arrive. Combeferre had to grab a nearby chair not to leap forward and pull him into his arms.

Courfeyrac’s attention was directed at Enjolras, as the blonde went over to him and put the flowers on the bedside table. Combeferre lingered by the door, unable to speak or move, clutching the chair so hard that his knuckles whitened.

“Hello, Courfeyrac” Enjolras said with a gentle voice. “How are you feeling?”

Courfeyrac’s entire face lit up when he took note of the other man and he smiled widely, making dimples appear in his cheeks. Combeferre felt like the oxygen had been drained from him as he saw Courfeyrac’s green eyes sparkle in Enjolras’s direction. Comparing that expression to the kind, but otherwise neutral and questioning one that he’d gotten when he made his visit a few hours earlier made him feel like he was suffocating.

“Enjolras!” Courfeyrac proclaimed happily.

Combeferre’s pain was only worsened as the other boy spoke. His voice, despite the fact that he’d been in a coma for weeks, was clear and vibrant.

“Yeah” Enjolras answered. “I wasn’t sure you’d recognize me.”

Courfeyrac let out a little laugh. “Of course I recognize you. You haven’t changed that much in three weeks.”

“No, I guess not. I brought flowers from the whole class. We’re all really relieved that you’re alright. Everyone was so worried about you.”

“Thank you, they’re lovely. I’m glad someone was thinking about me.” Courfeyrac kept his smile as he spoke but Combeferre could hear a loneliness seep through his voice and he could see it in his eyes. He couldn’t bear the idea of Fey thinking that no one cared and his grasp on the chair tightened in an effort to control himself and not run to his side.

He pressed the steel of the chair’s back until his fingers hurt and without meaning to he pushed the chair forward, making a loud scraping noise against the floor. Suddenly, two pairs of eyes were turned in his direction and those belonging to the boy in the bed changed from sad to curious.

“Hey, you were in here before.”

Combeferre cringed as he thought back to his short but devastating visit earlier that day. He had entered the room filled with elation over the fact that Fey was alive and awake. He’d been filled with something else as well. Despite Joly’s warnings of Courfeyrac’s currently fragile state of mind, Combeferre had been unable to expect anything but a mutually joyful reunion and possible declarations of feelings and even plans for the future.

What he had not expected was a tentative and politely questioning look. What he had not expected was for his exclamation of Fey’s name to be met by “Sorry, do I know you?”

As Combeferre had felt his entire world crumble he’d heard himself utter some vague excuse “No, you don’t know me; I was just checking that you were alright... For a friend.” Then he’d hastily made his way out of the room, leaving an even more confused patient behind.

Now, he was here again and this time Courfeyrac appeared to recognize him, but not in the way he’d hoped. The curly haired man looked quizzically between Enjolras and Combeferre, waiting for someone to explain the latter’s presence.

“Uhm” Enjolras began, looking at Combeferre with raised eyebrows as if asking for a telepathic recitation of what he should say. Combeferre looked back with wide eyes and shrugged his shoulders slightly in answer. “This is my roommate” Enjolras finally spoke.

“Oh” Courfeyrac said with a confused tone. Then something changed in his expression and a look of realization settled on his face. “Oh, I understand. That’s why you were here before? Did Enjolras send you to check on me?”

“Yes.” Combeferre answered before Enjolras could get a word in and expose his previous lie. “That’s right. I was close by anyway so Enjolras asked me to check on you as soon as he heard that you were awake.”

A fond smile appeared on Courfeyrac’s lips as he turned towards Enjolras. “That’s so sweet of you. I didn’t know you cared that much about me.”

Combeferre felt like his insides were on fire as he watched the man he loved gazing at Enjolras with amazement. He couldn’t help but be reminded of how Fey had told him that he thought Enjolras was attractive and his hands inadvertently clenched to fists at his sides.

Then the green eyes turned from their source of adoration and suddenly stared into Combeferre’s own. Combeferre swallowed as he met the searing gaze. “And thank you.” Courfeyrac said in earnest. “That was really nice of you to come check on me when you don’t even know me. What was your name again?”

“Combeferre.”

“Combeferre” Courfeyrac echoed. There was an intensely focused look on his face, like he was trying to recall something.

Despite his better judgment, Combeferre felt a spark of hope ignite inside him.

“I recognize that name…” Courfeyrac whispered.

Combeferre’s heart started hammering in his chest. He let go of the chair and without his anchor, he was unable to stop himself from moving closer to the bed. “You do?” he asked expectantly. He noticed Enjolras donning a similarly hopeful expression.

“Yeah” Courfeyrac said. “Enjolras talks about you all the time. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Combeferre’s heart dropped and he was filled with resignation as his last glimmer of hope was extinguished. “You too” he said, failing to keep his voice from breaking. Then he turned to Enjolras, fearing that he would simply fall apart if he looked at the heartbreakingly beautiful brunette any longer. “I’ll go wait outside while you two catch up.” He fought to hold back his tears as he left the room, feeling Fey’s eyes on his back the entire time.

******

The following days were a mess. Combeferre knew that he should be happy. He’d helped save the life of someone he cared about. Courfeyrac may not remember him, but in the grand scheme of things, that should feel like a small price to pay for having him alive.

Still, Combeferre felt like he was in mourning. He felt bereft, like he’d lost a very dear friend. Enjolras had insisted that he take a few days off from school to work through his feelings and get back on his feet. All his friends had been incredible, really, and Combeferre wasn’t sure how he would have made it without them.

Joly left him regular updates on Courfeyrac’s state, relaying the progress of his recovery in a professional way, trying not to stir up too many unnecessary emotions. Immediately after the events that had led to Courfeyrac’s awakening, Jehan and Enjolras had launched operation “Save Joly’s job”. Combeferre was unclear on the details but he knew that they had somehow managed to dig up some kind of dirt on Nurse Hendricks and made her promise to keep her mouth shut.

Jehan, Joly and Enjolras had taken turns keeping Combeferre company during the first couple of days. Combeferre had tried to ensure them that he didn’t need round the clock supervision but to be honest, he was immensely grateful for their presence.

The truth was that he felt a strong apprehension at the thought of being alone in the apartment. So much in his home seemed to have changed since Fey’s spirit left it. Combeferre felt like the entire apartment had been cast in a gloomy shadow. The colors seemed less bright and the pleasant temperature that they’d been enjoying was now back to its usual near freezing condition. The box of knitted garments had made a permanent comeback on the living room floor.

Even though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, every time Combeferre walked into a room he was struck by a terrible disappointment over the fact that the lights didn’t automatically turn on for him. There were so many little things that he’d become used to Fey taking care of and which he now had to remind himself to do.

While Combeferre tried really hard to look at the positive side of things, there were moments when he just couldn’t bear to keep it inside. Luckily, Enjolras seemed to have developed some sort of sixth sense that zoned in on his emotional state and he always appeared just when Combeferre needed it the most. There were many nights spent on the sofa, crying with his head in Enjolras’s lap.

Enjolras mostly functioned as a rock to lean against, but he did make a few attempts at giving advice. Something which, despite his good intention, Combeferre would much rather have gone without.

“What if you try talking to him once he’s out of the hospital? Even if he doesn’t remember, you could ask him out, make a new start. Or I could talk to him if you like, I could set you up.”

Combeferre sighed and closed his eyes. “It’s a nice thought, Enjolras, but it wouldn’t work. I don’t think that I could handle seeing him and pretending that he doesn’t mean anything to me. Pretending that I don’t want to touch him every second he’s within reach. And what if it doesn’t work out? What if the real him doesn’t even like me?”

Enjolras didn’t have an answer to that and the subject was consequently left alone.


	13. Chapter 13

A little over a week after the events that had transpired at the hospital, Combeferre woke up to an empty apartment. As valued as the company of his friends had been, Combeferre had started to feel like he was under surveillance. Even if it hadn’t been explicitly stated, Enjolras had made sure that Combeferre was never alone for more than an hour.

Walking through the unlit and quiet rooms instilled Combeferre with an unpleasant feeling. He tried to shake it off, telling himself that he had to move on. He couldn’t keep expecting people to take care of him, he was a grown man and he had obligations that needed to be seen to. He made a mental decision that today was the day when was going to get his life back in order, starting with the school work in which he had fallen terribly behind during the past few days. All would be dealt with as soon as he’d had some breakfast and a much needed cup of coffee.

As Combeferre entered the kitchen, his newfound determination and careful optimism suddenly plummeted, along with his heart. The kitchen was dark and utterly unwelcoming. And the anticipated fresh pot of coffee was nonexistent.

Combeferre allowed himself a moment of mourning before turning on the ceiling lights and entering the room. He tried his best not to think about how cold it was as he pulled his navy dressing gown tighter around him. It didn’t exactly help that the belt was missing and that he was only wearing pajama bottoms underneath it. He contemplated returning to his room and staying under the warm covers all day when his eyes caught on a yellow post-it note attached to the fridge.

_Good morning._  
 _I had to go to school today._  
 _I know that you’ll be just fine on your own but if there’s anything you need, please call me!_  
 _Love you, E_

Combeferre smiled to himself and his melancholy seemed to ease a bit. Of course he knew that Enjolras loved him, but it was still a rarity for him to actually use the L word. Combeferre carefully folded the note and put it in his pocket. He decided to save it as he felt certain that it would come in handy should he ever find himself in a bad place in the future.

Just as he was about to open the fridge in search of food, Combeferre was interrupted by a knock on the door. Apparently, the “I know you’ll be fine on your own” barely extended to a few hours and Combeferre rolled his eyes as he went to see who Enjolras had sent to check on him.

When he opened the door, the person who'd rung the bell had his back turned towards him. Combeferre regarded the dark, curly hair and forest green coat and made the assumption that it belonged to Grantaire. He was just about to invite him in when the man in the hallway turned around and Combeferre’s breath caught in his throat.

Instantly, he became aware of all the little details that separated this man from Enjolras’s boyfriend. He was taller, his hair was longer. And his face was definitely not Grantaire’s.

“Fey” Combeferre’s voice came out as a barely audible whisper.

The other man opened his mouth as if to respond but no words came forth and they stood there for what felt like an eternity, just staring at each other. It seemed to Combeferre as though everything around him faded away. He felt like he’d forgotten how to breathe. All he could focus on was how the boy in front of him seemed to burst with color. Combeferre felt like he’d been seeing the world in black and white up until this moment.

Courfeyrac’s hair, which had been dull and listless in the hospital now appeared to be shining in a million different nuances; from auburn to almost black. His green eyes sparkled and his freckled nose and cheeks where rosy from the cold weather outside. When Combeferre’s gaze caught on plump, red lips he found himself unable to look away. Those lips where still parted and seemed to glisten in the hallway light. Combeferre felt light headed.

Then something happened. A tongue darted out from between those lips and they pressed together. Combeferre was intensely aware of every little shift of the other man’s jaw and neck as he swallowed. Then, Combeferre was suddenly brought out of his trance like state and catapulted back to reality as words came from Courfeyrac’s mouth. “I remember.”

If Combeferre had felt like his world had stopped when he laid eyes on Fey, it was now moving excessively fast to catch up. His head was spinning. He tried to make sense of the words and put things in order but the only thought that kept going through his mind was; if Fey remembers, why is he still standing six feet away?

The seconds dragged on as Combeferre desperately searched for the right words to say. Suddenly, he noticed a change in the other man’s expression. The expectant look was exchanged for something that looked dangerously close to fear. “Please, Combeferre” he said, a hint of panic in his voice. “Tell me that this was real. Tell me that you know what I'm talking about and it wasn’t just some freakish coma dream.”

Somehow, Combeferre managed to make himself speak. “You remember?”

Courfeyrac nodded as Combeferre lifted his gaze and they stared into each other’s eyes. “I remember everything.”

Combeferre wasn’t sure who took the first step or who made the loud gasp as they collided together. All he knew was that his arms where suddenly filled with the other man’s body as Courfeyrac clung to him and buried his face against the crook of his neck. Combeferre closed his arms around Courfeyrac and tried to ignore the frustration of the thick winter coat that stopped him from getting closer access.

Combeferre’s senses were consumed by Courfeyrac’s presence. He tried to take in every little part of the man in his arms. The way his body felt, the way he smelled, the sensation of his breath against Combeferre's skin. He felt a need to say something, just to affirm to himself that this was truly happening, that it wasn’t an illusion. “Christ, Fey, you’re… Fuck, I missed you so much.”

Courfeyrac’s only response was a needy whimper before his arms released their tight hold around Combeferre and moved to his shoulders. Combeferre suddenly became very aware of the fact that he was only wearing pajama pants and a robe, which had inevitably fallen open. Combeferre’s breath quickened along with Courfeyrac’s as he felt the other man run his hands down his bare chest and wrap them around his waist, beneath the fabric.

The only obstacle between them was Courfeyrac’s unfairly thick jacket. Combeferre had never hated a piece of clothing more in his life. He reluctantly pushed Courfeyrac away from him as he willed his mind to say something sensible. He was sure that there were a number of appropriate things to say in situations like this. Things like _“Would you like to come in, hang up your coat, can I get you something to drink?”_ But apparently, the part of Combeferre’s brain that handled rational thinking had completely shut down and all that came out of his mouth was: “Take this off.”

The second the words left his mouth, Combeferre could hear how bad they sounded and he screwed his eyes shut as he felt his cheeks turn an embarrassing shade of red. But while his eyes were closed, he heard footsteps leaving the doorway and entering the apartment, followed by the undeniable thump of a heavy coat landing on the floor. When Combeferre looked up he was met by the sight of the most beautiful man he’d ever seen in nothing but jeans and a thin, maroon t-shirt.

Combeferre swallowed and shut the door without taking his eyes off Fey for even a second. The moment he turned around, Courfeyrac reached for him and they drew together like magnets. Combeferre reveled in the feeling of the other man's body, pressing close to him and running his hands downs his arms. He couldn't get enough of the heat emanating from him, the feeling of his skin and everything that was a testament to the fact that he was alive.

Courfeyrac ran his hands through Combeferre's hair and then down to his face, his eyes following the movements. His lips opened slightly as he stroked his thumb over Combeferre's cheekbone. Then he suddenly shook his head and let out a disbelieving breath.

"I can't believe you're here" Courfeyrac whispered. Combeferre felt like the words had been stolen from his own mouth. "I can't believe that I can really touch you." he continued, an awestruck look on his face.

Combeferre wanted to tell him that he felt exactly the same. He wanted Courfeyrac to know just how badly he had wanted him ever since they'd started talking to each other, more than a month ago. He also wanted to tell him how overjoyed he was about the fact that he was alive and well. And he wanted to know what their previous contact had been like for Fey.

All these sentiments and questions seemed to disappear, however, as he felt Courfeyrac's fingers run down his cheek and stop at his mouth. The sound of Courfeyrac’s heavy breathing filled Combeferre's ears as the other man stroked his thumb over Combeferre's bottom lip and he couldn't help himself any longer.

With a needy sound, he grasped Courfeyrac's face and kissed him hard. He was rewarded with a moan as Fey kissed him back and opened his mouth to meet Combeferre's tongue. The wetness and the warmth of Courfeyrac's mouth leant further proof to just how real this was. The kiss intensified and Combeferre was struck by the realization of just how perfectly they seemed to fit together. It was almost too much to handle and Combeferre felt a bit overwhelmed.

Courfeyrac slid his hands down from the sides of Combeferre's face to his chest. Combeferre felt a tightening in his stomach as the other man's soft hands moved against his skin. All he could think of was how it wasn't enough. He needed to be closer. Combeferre reluctantly took his hands from where they'd settled in soft, curly hair and wrapped his arms around Fey's waist, sneaking his fingers beneath his shirt and pressing them against the warm skin on his back.

He wanted to be as close to the other boy as was humanly possible, to feel as much of him as it was possible to feel. Courfeyrac didn't seem to be protesting and for a second, Combeferre let his urges take control of him. He pressed himself against the other's body, backing Courfeyrac a few steps until he hit the back of the living room sofa.

Combeferre's head was spinning. But then, suddenly, the kiss was broken and a painful cry emerged from Courfeyrac’s lips. In an instant, Combeferre’s rational thinking kicked back in and he took a step back. He looked at the other boy in concern and tried to detect what had caused his distress. Courfeyrac's eyes were screwed shut in pain and suddenly, Combeferre's mind was filled with words like _"Car crash, internal damage, operations, coma."_

Combeferre's hands flew to his head and he took another step backwards. "Fuck" he exclaimed, a panic beginning to well up inside him "I hurt you."

"No, no you didn’t" Courfeyrac said hurriedly. "You didn't hurt me. Just..." he moved towards Combeferre and gently took his hands down from his hair. "Just be careful" he whispered and guided Combeferre's hands towards him and tentatively placed them on his hips.

Combeferre took a shaky breath before stepping closer. Fey smiled softly and brushed some stray hairs from Combeferre's eyes. Combeferre felt something clench tightly in his chest and he feared for a terrifying moment that he might cry. He drew a quick breath, closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the other boy's.

"I didn't’ think I'd ever see you again." Combeferre admitted, failing to keep his voice steady.

Courfeyrac stroked his hair with firm, gentle fingers. "I'm sorry" he whispered.

"What? No, you have nothing to apologize for."

"I should have recognized you. I should have known who you were the second I laid eyes on you at the hospital."

"It's not your fault." Combeferre assured him. "And it doesn't matter. All that matters is that you remember now and that you're well. "

Courfeyrac leaned back and looked at Combeferre with a burning sincerity.

"You saved me. You saved my life."

Combeferre smiled and looked back into those intense green eyes. "I think you might have saved mine too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you brought crackers, cause that was cheesy as fuck!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so tempted to do a big speech-thing about publishing my first fic and all, but you’re probably more interested in the conclusion, so here it is; the last chapter!

Despite the fact that it was barely afternoon, the sun had already begun to set when Combeferre heard the door to the apartment open, followed by Enjolras’s apologetic voice. “Ferre, are you there? Sorry I took so long.”

Combeferre didn’t have time to answer before a blonde head popped into the living room. Enjolras opened his mouth to speak but then promptly shut it again as he took in the scene before him while his eyes opened wide in surprise.

Combeferre couldn’t help but snicker at his friend’s shocked expression. Although he could very much understand it, as this was probably the last thing Enjolras had expected to come home and find. The sight he was met by was Combeferre lying on the couch, still clad in his open dressing gown, with a shirtless man lying on top of him and a blanket wrapped around them both.

Enjolras blinked several times and gave his roommate a questioning look. The curly haired head on his chest made no indication of looking up and Combeferre could only smile back.

“Is that…” Enjolras finally whispered, not knowing if the person was asleep or not. Combeferre nodded back with a huge grin on his face. “Oh” Enjolras continued. “Does that mean that he…”

“He remembers” Courfeyrac suddenly answered in a slightly muffled voice. He still didn’t make any attempts to move his head from Combeferre’s chest.

“Well, thank Christ for that!” Enjolras said with relieved laughter in his voice. He looked at Combeferre’s altogether enraptured appearance. “Really, that is fantastic. I’m so pleased for both of you.”

“Thanks Enjolras” Combeferre answered, an almost euphoric expression settling on his face. He felt as though Enjolras’s comment was the final confirmation he needed. A final proof of the fact that everything that had transpired was indisputably real.

Enjolras stood there, regarding them for a while before clearing his throat. “Right, well if everything is alright here, I guess I’ll just grab some stuff and head over to Grantaire’s.”

“You don’t have to leave, Enj.” Combeferre interjected.

“No, no, it’s fine. You two look like you could need some time alone and to be honest, I kind of have some making up to do, considering the fact that I’ve been a bit absent in the boyfriend field the last week.”

Combeferre opened his mouth to speak but Enjolras cut him off: “Which is the whole point of me as a best friend and Grantaire completely understands. And I would do it again in a heartbeat so don’t you dare feel bad or apologize for that, Ferre.”

Combeferre let out a murmur of acceptance and Enjolras turned to walk to his bedroom. As he passed in front of the sofa, the thus far motionless head on Combeferre’s chest suddenly lifted.

“So, you and R?” Courfeyrac’s voice was filled with mischief.

Enjolras stopped in his tracks and looked back at them. “Yeah, me and R.”

“I told you he liked you.”

Enjolras blushed slightly. “Yeah, I guess you did.”

“See, Enjy, you should learn to listen to me and your life would be so much easier.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes “Really Courf, is that so?”

Courfeyrac only laughed in response. “Well, I was right, wasn’t I? And I’m just saying, for future reference, if you take my advice you’ll reach your goals a lot quicker.”

As amused as Combeferre was by their banter, he couldn’t help but interpret a deeper meaning in Courfeyrac’s words. Fey had proved that he had valuable ideas concerning ABC and he and Enjolras already knew each other. Combeferre was suddenly struck by a vision of the three of them together. Before his mind’s eye, he could see not only a great friendship with an ideal dynamic, but also a highly effective leadership for their group. With Courfeyrac’s innovative ideas and natural charm, Enjolras’s passion and charisma and Combeferre’s knack for planning and eye for detail, they would be an unstoppable force.

While lost in his thoughts, Enjolras had left the living room and Courfeyrac had shifted on top of him. When he looked up he was met by emerald eyes and an amused smile. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing” Combeferre answered. “You. Us.”

“Good” Fey leaned down to capture Combeferre’s lips in a sweet kiss.

They were still kissing when Enjolras ventured out of his room and cleared his throat. “Right, you two, I’m leaving now.”

Combeferre reluctantly pulled away from Fey’s intoxicating lips and turned towards his roommate.

“Okay. Thanks for everything, Enjolras.”

“No problem.” He said. Then his eyes narrowed slightly. “Courfeyrac.”

“Yes?”

“I just wanted to say that I really am happy for the both of you. And I’m beyond relieved that you’re okay. But just so we’re clear, if you think that being in a coma is going to get you out of the ‘hurt him and I’ll hurt you’ talk, you are sorely mistaken.”

Combeferre could feel the laughter shaking in Fey’s body. “I’m looking forward to it” he chirped back, giving Enjolras a thumbs up over the side of the sofa.

Courfeyrac settled back against Combeferre’s chest and Combeferre ran his fingers through soft curls as they waited to be left alone. Then they heard the door open and the sound of jangling keys. But before the door shut, Enjolras stuck his head back in the living room. “Oh, and one more thing, Courf. You still owe me a coffee mug, you little shit!”

******

Two weeks after Courfeyrac had turned up at Combeferre’s doorstep with the revelation that had finally changed his life for the better, it was time for a meeting with ABC. During the past weeks, Combeferre and Courfeyrac had spent practically every waking moment together. And every sleeping one as well, for that matter. Combeferre had accompanied Courfeyrac to his check-ups at the hospital and they’d had coffee with Joly and Jehan.

But now it was time for Courfeyrac to attend his first ABC meeting and to be officially introduced to the rest of the members. It felt a bit strange, considering the fact that Fey had already been in contact with almost all of them, just not in human form. Enjolras, Joly and Jehan were the only ones who knew about Fey’s extraordinary background and they had decided to keep it that way.

Combeferre felt rather ambivalent about the whole affair. On one hand, he wanted to show off Courfeyrac to the world and he was really anxious for him to be a part of their group. But on the other hand he was worried that it would be uncomfortable and strange. What if someone slipped up, what if someone figured it out?

The troublesome thoughts followed Combeferre all the way to the Musain as they walked hand in hand through the snowy streets. He hadn’t voiced his concerns to Courfeyrac because he didn’t want to make him nervous, but as they came up to the door, Combeferre found out that he didn’t have to.

Courfeyrac stopped on the threshold and turned to face him. “I really don’t think you have to worry, Ferre. I’ve sort of met your friends already and I think you should give them more credit. ” Courfeyrac winked at him and squeezed his hand before they entered the warm familiarity of the café together.

He was right of course. There had been no reason for Combeferre to feel nervous. His friends welcomed Courfeyrac into their circle with open arms. Glancing around at their faces during the meeting, they all seemed thoroughly impressed by this newcomer who appeared to have so much knowledge and insight into ABC’s work. It turned out to be one of the most productive and inspiring meetings in a long while and Enjolras wasn’t the only one practically buzzing at the end.

After the official business was over, they all headed over to the Corinth for the customary drinks and socializing. Courfeyrac seemed to fit right in. Watching him interact with the rest of the members was incredible. He was like a cog that they’d never realized they’d been missing. Now that he was there, the wheel seemed to turn that much smoother.

Some time during the evening, Combeferre and Courfeyrac ended up sitting at a table opposite Grantaire and Bahorel, who appeared to be involved in a game of ‘who can make Marius blush harder?’ The chosen topic was sex and they listed off story after story, each one raunchier than the other. Marius sat on a chair next to Courfeyrac, desperately scanning the bar for his girlfriend.

Suddenly, Combeferre felt Courfeyrac begin to giggle next to him and when he looked over, the curly haired boy was covering his mouth with his hand, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

“What’s so funny?”

Courfeyrac leaned up, cupped his hand against Combeferre’s ear and whispered: “I just realized that we have a story that can probably trump theirs.” He snickered again before composing himself and continuing. ”We’ve had ghost sex. How many couples can say that?”

At first Combeferre felt jolt of embarrassment, but it quickly died out as he processed the last words that Fey had spoken. He turned to him in amazement. “Couple?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean…” Courfeyrac shut his eyes, scrunched up his nose and bit his lip. Combeferre was sure it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen. “Uhm, do you want to be?” he asked, a bit sheepishly.

Combeferre let out the breath he’d unconsciously been holding. “More than anything.”

Courfeyrac’s entire face lit up in an instant as he threw his arms around Combeferre’s neck and pulled him in for an almost obscene kiss, effectively outdoing both Grantaire and Bahorel’s efforts to make Marius turn red.

******

Later that night, Combeferre lay quietly in his bed with his face nuzzled in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. He focused on the feeling of Courfeyrac’s pulse beating as the other boy tenderly ran a freckled hand up and down his spine. The room was dark and silent and seemed to be filled with a strangely heavy, somehow momentous atmosphere.

Combeferre let out a heavy breath and pressed a kiss against Fey’s soft skin. He thought about how unbelievably lucky he was that this person whom he hadn’t thought that he’d ever even see was actually there beside him. The person he’d thought was dead. The person he loved. It still seemed quite unbelievable that he was right there; warm, vivid, moving and breathing. Combeferre tightened his hold around him and without a word, Courfeyrac did the same.

They lay like that for a while before Combeferre moved his head onto the other’s chest, pressing his ear against his heart. He felt as though he could feel the blood pumping in Fey’s body reverberate through his own. He couldn’t help but let out a contented sigh.

Courfeyrac’s amused whisper broke the silence. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing, I just.” Combeferre pressed a kiss to Courfeyrac’s chest and let his fingers trail over the place that his lips left. “I just love hearing your heart beat.”

“That’s good” Courfeyrac answered. “Because it’s your heart now.”

 

_The End_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I know I said that I wasn’t gonna do a speech-thing but I lied. Really, I just want to say thank you to everyone who’s read this and left kudos and kind words. Like I said, it’s my first fic and English isn’t even my first language so I never expected people to keep reading it or actually liking it. So, yeah, it’s been a great experience and I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do with my time now :P.  
> Lots of love to you all!


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